The Dogfight
by Mila92334
Summary: "And at the end of the 6 weeks we can decide if this friendship is something worth continuing or not." A damaging incident thrust teenage Amy Farrah Fowler and Sheldon Cooper into an unconventional friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Maybe it was because in elementary school she would sneak six Chocolate chip cookies in her lunchbox when her mother only allowed her three. Or because in 9th grade she did Mona Wright's biology and math homework in exchange for not getting pelted with balls in PE. Maybe because hidden under her pillow was _A Lover's Affair,_ a steamy French romance novel that she'd secretly read once the house was asleep.

Amy Farrah Fowler reviewed every blemish on her life's record to understand what heinous deed she'd committed to get to this moment. What had she done to deserve standing in front of a sea of students, each one with wide mouths, fingers pointing, all toppling over with laughter? The sounds of their cackles snaked around her body and squeezed tight paralyzing her to her spot.

"Woohoo!" Christian hollered, hugged around his meaty friends. "Speech, speech." He rallied behind a toothy smile. A 'my Dad's lawyer has it handled' smile. A dangerously perfect smile. The same smile he paraded when he stopped at Amy's locker two weeks earlier asking her to prom.

Amy noticed Christian sauntering down the hallway like a peacock. She always noticed him. She expected, per their usual encounters, for him to continue past her but he stopped just beyond her locker door. She didn't look up, he was probably standing at her locker because he is getting something out of his shoe or perhaps he is hanging up another poster of himself. When she didn't acknowledge him, he closed her locker door shut startling her. She looked up and was hypnotized by his Summery blue eyes. His lips opened to release the slightest _hi_ , but what he said was of no concern to her. All she could focus on were his pink lips that looked as smooth as pebbles. Or the way his tongue lightly caressed his bottom lip. The way his saliva glazed his lip like a hot, fresh donut.

"Yum!" Amy accidentally said aloud. "Umm, no! I-i mean... Hello! How are you?" She reddened like a baked apple and buried her face in her locker hitting her head with a loud thud. He reached for her warm face checking for any cuts or bruises.

"Better, now" He said with a sly smug. Amy couldn't tell if he was referencing her head being better or he was better that they were together. Either way she choked out a weak,"O-okay."

"Your name is Amy, right?"

"Amy Farrah Fowler. What's yours?" Christian Wesleyan Phillips. 18 years old. Born May 8, 1980. But she needed to be coy.

"You haven't seen my posters?"

"Oh! That's you, I never even noticed." She lied.

He guided her eyes to the wall beside her locker that had a larger than life poster of him with the soccer team. "Really?"

"Oh, well... umm, I couldn't see that. I've been...umm meaning to get a new prescription in my glasses, but you know how it is it with optometrist, right?" A pregnant pause scooted between the both of them. And sat. And sat.

"No." He said pointing to his glasses-less face.

"Right."

"So listen, prom is coming up and would you believe it, I don't have a date. Well, I have gotten quite a few offers, from freshman, seniors, even a few faculty members. But they are all saying the same used up lines. 'Christian, I'll do anything you want' or 'Christian, I'll let you do anything to me' or 'Christian, I'll give you an A for the rest of the year.'" He mocked. "But I want to go with someone who is different. Which is why I was wondering if you would want to go to prom with me?"

 _This is a dream. This is one of my over the top daydreams that prove I am absolutely delusional. He's not actually standing here. I'm just imaging the entire thing and I'm actually talking to myself right now. Or what if he is here and I'm having an entire conversation with my conscious and looking like an idiot._

 _"_ Think about it," Christian continued when Amy said nothing "it would be us, the guys, and their dates. We'd get a limo, we'd have snacks and drinks and a-"

"Yes, yes, yes a thousand times yes!" Amy squeaked so loudly that other student began staring. She rummaged through her locker finding a pen and the edge of a ripped piece of paper. "Pick me up at this address, at this time!" She punched the paper into his chest "Do you want to have matching outfits? I secretly read in a Seventeen magazine that matching is the new trend. My favorite color is blue and I know that will match your eyes, but we can wear whatever you'd like. Oh! We should have a theme! You know in old English courts they would wear masks at balls. There is a place on Main that specializes in English mask making, maybe we could"

"I'll just see you then" Christian shouted over her ramble. "Goodbye Amy Farrah Fowler"

"Goodbye"

Maybe if Christian knew how overjoyed Amy was, or how much she'd done to prepare he would have reconsidered making her night hell. If he knew how many Seventeen magazines she read pertaining to a girls first prom, how many hours she spent painting her nails, or how high her hopes were for tonight, maybe he wouldn't be standing there laughing. Maybe he'd feel sorry for putting her through this, or maybe he wouldn't have done it at all.

Amy removed her eyes from Christian and stared at the ceiling hoping it would stop her tears from falling. She desperately tried to remain strong. That's what her father diligently reminded her, ' _Charge the mountain with a smile!'_ She lived by that every day but this was proving her loyalty to the motto weak. She wanted to prove she could still have a good prom despite the student body's effort to destroy it. But this wasn't one of her books or a perfectly wrapped up 30 minute drama, this was reality. And in reality Amy couldn't take any more humiliation. 17 years of being a social outcast, ridiculed, and bullied was finally taking its toll and she had no more energy left to fight, so she ran.

She pushed through all of the laughing students and faculty and ran through the door.

But outside was more daunting than the gym. She was faced with a world of darkness and had no idea what to do. Where should she go? Home? Just to be berated by her mother. A park? To be left alone with her thoughts. A friends house? Ha! All she knew was that she no longer wanted to be here. In more ways than one.

She ran idly turning down different streets and stopping when her chest felt like it was caving in. Her feet were blistering with pain from her shoes and she felt like she was suffocating. _Great! I'm so un-athletic I can't even run away properly._ Before she could steady herself Amy collapsed in a patch of nearby grass listening to the deafening pounding of her heart and watching her chest violently rise and fall. She wasn't lying there long before she felt a tear fall sideways down her face. She swallowed the threatening lump in her throat and closed her eyes shut. She would not give in. _Be strong._ Sadly, her strength betrayed her and an army of tears barged their way from her eyes. She submitted to the emotion until she was wracking in sobs.

 _Why does this happen to her?_

She was so thrilled that Christian asked her to prom. Never in her lifetime did Amy think anyone was going to ask her to a prom. I mean, she hoped, God, she hoped. But she was also realistic and was aware not many people at her school appreciated her or even liked her. So when Christian asked Amy to prom she rightfully freaked out. Her mother, on the other hand, was far more cautious than excited.

Yes, she was very happy for her daughter. Amy was seventeen years old and hadn't been to a dance or had friends but she was aware of Amy's social differences and she didn't want anyone hurting her daughter.

Her mother's apprehensiveness didn't falter Amy's excitement. She went to the library every week reading through every issue of Teen Beat, Seventeen, and Cosmo she could find. She spent her afternoons at the makeup counter in the mall seeing which nail polish matched her eyeshadow. She'd done everything right. So why did the night become such a horrible mess?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Part 2

The day of prom started well, at least. The bacteria in an experiment she was participating in at a Eastern Texas University finally doubled. Her collectors book of medieval poetry finally came in the mail. And, her prom dress came together perfectly. The dress was pleated with rows of blue tulle which made her feel like royalty. Her mother even commented on her beauty every hour, something she'd never done. Christian was on time and he picked her up in a sleek black limo. It was the first time she'd ridden in a limo and while she wanted to scream like a giddy school girl, she demurely smiled and acted as seasoned as possible. She needed to look like she fit in. Everybody who was anybody was in the limo. Every captain of a sports team was in attendance. The dangerously cool captain of the football team was there, Martin. Since middle school he was always seen with two things, a raggedy football and his tanned, Malibu Barbie girlfriend Mona Wright.

Mona Wright, who was one step away from looking like a witch. Her lips were always in an evil pucker as if she tasted something sour once and could never get the taste from her mouth. Mona Wright, who parked her hot pink Bug across two spots in the teachers parking lot. Mona Wright, who has that award winning smile that says "Do as I say or I'll kill you in your sleep!" Her father, Chet Wright, was the states' Congressman. Her mother, Nancy Wright, the school's superintendent. Her brother, Jackson Wright, former SGA president and herself, Mona Wright, the current SGA president, and homecoming queen, and prom queen, and closet slut. Make the Wright decision! Vote Mona Wright.

Wait- but it wasn't Mona's wicked face sitting beside Martin. It was Shelby Dowdy, a true president, recently elected president of the academic decathlon team. Although she is incredibly brilliant, unfortunately she often accompanied Amy in being at the wrong end of high school ridicule. In fact, none of the male captains were with the cheerleaders they usually accompany.

Steven Townsend whose best skills were burping loudly and flipping his blonde hair accompanied Cassy Cho who constantly had magnets thrown at her because she wore a large metal brace. Neil Bradshaw who dribbled a basketball everywhere, Amy believed he even peed bouncing it, accompanied Lillian Lewis who was obsessed with garlic. She could eat a whole clove plain. While increasingly curious Amy couldn't help but smile. Seeing jocks focus their attention on girls of other social group was heart warming. Everyone is deserving of special attention and Amy was finally glad the people in her school were realizing that.

They arrived at the gymnasium before Amy could enjoy the sparkling apple cider and pretzels that were in the limo. But she didn't mind because she was finally here. She planned all week for the moment she would walk into the building gracefully descending the staircase with Christian as her arm candy. And much to her surprise it happened the way she planned. Though they were late, when each couple entered the gym the crowd turned and gave them a vigorous applause. Everyone pointed staring in amazement at the couples. Amy, Shelby, Cassy, and Lillian were all beaming over the attention they never received but always deserved.

Each couple entered and immediately sat down at the two front tables. Amy followed suit assuming this was what popular kids did. They didn't need to dance and greet everyone, they simply sat while everyone else looked at them in awe. Amazing! But Amy had some rad moves and she wanted to dance. But when in Rome…

They'd been sitting at this table for so long her dress began making imprints on her skin. If this is how it felt to be popular it wasn't what it seemed to be. Amy wanted to be on the dance floor grooving, and hanging out with her classmates. Instead they remained at the table while the boys occasionally laughed and whispered to each other and the DJ.

An hour into sitting the DJ stopped the music announcing a special request. It was for them! All four of the couples stood and finally made their way to the dance floor. The blue flashing lights on the stage and all eyes on her made her feel like she was a princess. The crowd parted, making room for them to dance. Each couple stood waiting for the start of the song. Amy nervously wiped the palms of her hands on her dress making sure her sweaty palms didn't get in the way.

She smiled at Christian surprised that the song choice was Elvis Presley 'Hound Dog'. It was a strange choice but Amy would appreciate any genre of music. She began to move her feet and arms, and started to sway her hips to the beat of the music. She'd been practicing all week. After her mother went to bed she'd watch MTV to find out the latest dance moves and she had to admit they were pretty good. This was her chance to show she was a gnarly dancer. She separated from Christian to give herself space and started showing off her version of the running man. She got the crowd involved and they began to cheer her on and she switched from the running man to the cabbage patch and so on. When the music stopped she was out of breath but the students clapped for her so loudly she couldn't hide her smile. This is all she wanted; to have fun with her classmates. And it was finally happening.

Once the roar of the gym settled, the DJ called her on stage to take a bow for her dancing. She reached back for Christians hand but when she turned she saw him huddle around his friends receiving handfuls of dollar bills. Before she had a moment to understand what he was doing she was pushed on the stage with a large bouquet of flowers thrown in her hands. She knew she was a good dancer but was she that good to deserve a moment of recognition? This is when it started. The Dj announced to the gymnasium that Amy Farrah Fowler was this year's winner of 'The Dogfight'.

The dogfight. The dogfight. The dogfight.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"Excuse me...hello...hello, if you don't answer I will be forced to call the police and you will be arrested, locked away with the likes of Texas's worst criminals for the rest of your days. Not to mention my mother will scold me for being out so late. So for the betterment of both of us please get up!"

Amy's eyes flew open jerking the rest of her body with her. She was still laying in the grass where she stopped earlier. How long has she been here? Her face was no longer wet from her tears and her feet were no longer sore from running. Stuck in a daze she stared at the person above her. He looked familiar but Amy couldn't recall his name. The persons pale skin and tall, lanky frame was familiar as well as that red shirt with a yellow lighting bolt and light brown jacket but she couldn't order her thoughts to know where she'd seen them.

"Where am I?" Amy finally asked, running her hand through her hair removing the blades of grass and dirt.

"You're laying in our front yard, trespassing might I add. And in the state of Texas I'm allowed to shoot anyone trespassing on our property." The voice said "You're lucky my father isn't here, or else he'd shoot you."

"May I use your phone?"

"Oh sure, why don't I just invite the strange girl lying in our front lawn in a ball gown into our house to use our technology!"

"Really!" Amy questioned.

"Bazinga! Of course not! Do your hear yourself woman?" He bellowed. Bazinga? The word scratched her ear. She felt overwhelming annoyed. But couldn't understand why?

"Sheldon?" Amy asked making her way to her feet.

"How do you know me? Are you friends of Missy? Well she's not here, she probably off at prom getting drunk or an STD." He stopped when he noticed Amy's confusion at what he was saying "You must be here for George. He already has a female companion in his room but he's had multiple women in there before so why stop now"

"I'm not here for Missy or George I just need to use a phone to call my mother. I've had a really rough night and I'd appreciate a little bit of sympathy." She didn't mean to raise her voice but her memory of the night was returning and Sheldon's reprimanding was making everything worse.

Sheldon's mother heard the commotion in her yard and stepped to the edge of the porch calling for Sheldon.

"Shelly! Is that you?" She hollered.

"Yes ma'am. I'm just dealing with a new neighborhood drunk who has found her way to our yard."

"I declare I am dog tired of those darn drunks passing out in our yard. Don't worry I have something for this one" Mary Cooper said hurrying off the porch with her slipper in hand. "Get! Get!" She yelled as she got closer.

"Wait!" Amy hopped to her feet guarding her face as Sheldon mother swung her pink slipper like she was chasing away raccoons. "It's me Mrs. Cooper, Amy Fowler! I'm no drunk. I go to school with Sheldon."

"Fowler? You Barbara's girl?" Amy nodded trying to catch her breath "I know Barbara from the widows organization at the community center. Well what are doing out here for?" Mary asked but continued without an answer. "Come in the house, sweetie." She placed a motherly hand around her shoulder and all but lifted her into the house.

With no hesitation Sheldon's mother sat Amy at the kitchen table and began to pick the remaining debris out of her hair. She wanted to thank her but couldn't will herself to speak, she feared she'd burst into tears if she did. Instead she picked at the skin around her nails hoping no one would notice her holding back the massive lump of emotion in her throat.

"Shelly, won't you be more comfortable in your room, sweetie?" Mrs. Cooper gently pushed recognizing what Amy was going through. Her own son had been the victim of senseless bullying many times before and she was familiar with the brave face they both tried to put on. But she could spot an aching soul anywhere.

"No thank you, I'm fine right here."

"Sheldon, I think you should go to your room now. I need to talk to Amy."

"Oh, I don't mind your talking, as long as you keep your conversation lower than a whisper. Besides, Star Trek comes on soon and you know I like to be here early to catch the final trailer of the show, it's my fourth favorite part of watching TV." Sheldon challenged.

"Sheldon, we're talking about periods!" Mary shouted.

He covered his ears and released a yelp of disgust like his mother said she and Amy were about to eat children.

"Fine, you guys have 10 minutes to discuss your unsanitary feminine troubles. " Sheldon unwillingly turned the corner mumbling under his breath.

"So...You want to tell me what a young lady like yourself, in a beautiful dress with a gorgeous hairstyle is doing lying in my front yard at such an ungodly hour? Shouldn't you be at prom having fun?"

"The students at that school are cruel! They are ungrateful, disrespectful, lazy children and I can't wait to go to college and get away from them" she said surprising herself at her sudden outburst.

"No, you don't mean that. Now you sound like Sheldon."

"Well he isn't a genius for nothing" She shot back not meaning to be as curt as she was, but anger was the only emotion she could stand.

"I remember when you were a little girl, no older than 7 or 8 you would walk your cat to my front porch so she could have a play-date with our cat. You would sit right out there every Saturday morning, do you remember that?" Mary said with a look of compassion but all Amy saw was pity. "Well I remember that, I also remember the young lady who personally delivered letters for Sheldon and Missy when their father passed. What happened to that girl who was full of life and eager to make new friends?"

"That Amy was naive, young, and covered in scratches from an angry and fatigued cat. I'm mature and wiser now. I used to live a life based in emotion and the desire to fit in now I live by facts and logic. That's how scientist operate anyway." It frightened Amy how much she sounded like her mother but maybe her mother was right, maybe friends and fun weren't necessities of life.

"Don't let your mother's strange ideas rub off on you. I love Barbara but she can be pretty robotic at times. I remember before you father passed he was the most joyful person I knew and he was a scientist himself. So that proves you wrong, scientist can be intelligent and fun."

Being full of life was one of the only things Amy remembered about her father. She didn't remember how his hands felt or what he sounded like when he sang to her but she remembered playing in his lab doing fun experiments and dancing around to Neil Diamond using beakers as microphones. She remembered his bear hugs and how he would squeeze her and swing her from side to side calling her his princess and promising her once he saved the money he would buy her the fanciest tiara. She even remembered his-

"What the hell" a husky voice knocked Amy out of her daydream as Missy and her date stampeded into the kitchen. They looked liked like the people you are told to avoid in Public Service Announcements. Their clothes half on their bodies, half ripped, their hair mangled on top of their heads. They both stumbled into the kitchen with their arms woven into the each other.

"Mom, what is she doing here?" Missy asked barely keeping her head up. Her date stared at Amy with a look of disgust.

"She's here for a while until she calls her mother to pick her up" Mary replied.

"Aww does the little girl need her mommy?" Missy's date started."I knew the guys said this year's Dogfight was going to be good but I didn't think it was going to be this good. I mean, damn girl, I didn't think you were going to win but the dance really put it over the top. Congratulations!" He clapped his hands in front of her face. Each clap was like a bullet erupting in her chest. She sunk in the chair burying her red face in her dress.

"That's enough! You are not going to come into my God fearing home and defile it with your mouth straight out of the gutter. Missy, send this little date of yours away. Better yet, tell George and his Saturday night jezebel she can go too. This is a house not a hotel. And if I smell alcohol on anyone's breath I will bring the rapture myself." Mrs. Cooper erupted." I swear the good Lord didn't bless me with the patience to deal with them. Sheldon!" Mary suddenly yelled "Come down stairs and escort Amy home, now!"

"What! No! No,no,no, no, that's fine Mrs. Cooper, truly. I can call my mother and she can come and get me. You really don't need to do that, I promise." Amy begged, she would rather be walked home by Missy and her date than to be escorted by Sheldon. She could handle ignorant and incoherent comments from Missy's date, she was used to that. But the arrogant and complicated remarks of Sheldon were unbearable.

"Nonsense, no use making her waste precious gas driving over here when Sheldon can walk you there for free. Shelly!" She yelled again "Get in here."

"Mother please, doesn't the bible say anything about women yelling obscenely in a house?"

"No."

"We'll ask God who his editor is, I'll write them a letter."

"Walk Amy home, don't be difficult tonight, please." Mary begged.

"But mother it's late" Sheldon pleaded.

"Thank goodness we have flashlights"

"But the light attracts bugs."

"That's what bug spray is for."

"But what if someone kidnaps me."

"Pray."

"But Star Trek comes on at 10:00pm" He challenged again.

"So if you hurry and leave now you'll make it back in time to watch it. Sheldon!" She stopped him before he crafted another excuse "Don't make me tell you again. Get your coat, flashlight, bug spray, and Bible and walk Amy home" Understanding it was pointless to challenge the will of Mary Cooper he did as told and walked out of the door without even checking to see if Amy was behind him.

They walked in absolute silence, only occasionally hearing crickets and the crunch of the ground beneath their feet. But uncomfortable silence was infinitely times better than him constantly berating her. Luckily the quietness gave Amy the opportunity to think about what she was going to tell her mother about her night. If she were brutally honest and disclosed every detail her mother would freak and go to the school demanding that the student body apologize to her daughter. The thought of that was stomach curling. However there was no way she could keep secret her night from her invasive mother.

"Can I say something?" Sheldon randomly asked.

"I'd rather you not." She replied curtly.

"It's a genuine concern, I promise."

"...Sure"

"If you won something...why are you so upset? I mean you won, you're the winner, shouldn't you be happy?" Amy stopped in her tracks staring at his back.

"Excuse me? Is this some sort of joke?" Sensing her defensive energy he cautiously continued.

"I-I'm just saying that Missy said you won the Dogfight-"

"Do you know what the Dogfight is Sheldon?"

"I do not. But winning any competition is an accomplishment and you should be proud of yourself. No one else in the school won, wear it proudly. I know I would." Was every teenager in this town really this demented? Or did he really not know? His face was covered in confusion which made her believe his poorly phrased comment was accidental.

"Sheldon, the dogfight is a stupid tradition the students play during prom. A group of senior guys, popular, ask a group of girls, unpopular, to prom. And the guy with the worst date wins a cash prize of 50 dollars while the girl wins a night of humiliation and a lifetime of self esteem issues."

"Worst date? I don't get it. You mean worst as in not adhering to the standard prom night procedures? Such as tardiness, inappropriate attire, a trip to the bathroom leading to a covert escape through the bathroom window. In that case, I understand."

"You know what I mean when I say worst" Amy didn't want to say it out loud but judging from his face Sheldon was genuinely ignorant to the entire situation. "Worst as in weirdest…ugliest." she put her head down trying to hide her face from him.

"Oh" was all he could say. He wasn't good at comforting people and he didn't want to hurt Amy more than she already was.

"That's all you have to say. No stabbing remark or joke?"

"Do you want to know my opinion?" He finally said.

"I really don't"

"I've carried the name 'Shelly Cooper is a smelly pooper' for some years now, and I've learned they bully me because they know I am intelligent. And they are jealous I am so superior and will lead far better lives than they could even imagine." Of course this is the only thing Sheldon Cooper could muster up as comforting words. "And you are extremely intelligent so it's possible they tease you because they know you will have a bright future and they are jealous of you."

"Wow" he said something far nicer than the condescending comment she was expecting. "That's actually sweet Sheldon, I really appreciate that. I'm surprised you think I'm smart, in class you seem pretty self absorbed."

"Of course I know the woman who is battling my valedictorian spot. You do excellent work, Ms. Fowler getting invited to participate in an experiment at Texas Eastern is nothing to look over. You are bound to have a very promising future, I look forward to tracking your career and your work." He spoke about her so confidently and with so much detail it warmed her heart to know someone thought about her that much, or thought about her at all.

"Thank you Sheldon" she meekly responded and they continued to walk in silence but this was a welcomed quietness, nothing about it was uncomfortable. The more the pair continued to her house the more Amy realized Sheldon was a good ole southern gentlemen. When cars would pass he'd step behind her giving her space on the inside of the sidewalk keeping her safe from the cars. He even held the flashlight in front of her path so she could see where she was walking.

She wanted to tell Sheldon how sweet his comment was, how nice it was to treat her the way she deserved to be treated. How it pleased her to know someone as brilliant as he found her equally intelligent. She wanted to thank him for being the silver lining to her gray cloud of a prom night but she didn't have the courage so she stood there like a fool.

"Is your door locked?" Sheldon started," Why aren't you going in? Do you not have a key to get in? I leave a extra key under our flower pot, you should try finding a place to keep a spare. Practicing preparedness is must for this fellow."

"No, I have a key" she said cutting him off" I, um...I wanted to say...what you did was...I mean, you're really...um." She was panicking. He was staring at her as if a pulsating growth was attached to her neck, and her nervous facial tick wasn't easing the situation. This was not as easy as it seemed. "Thanks for walking me home." Dammit. "I appreciate it."

"You should. I will for sure miss the first 3 minutes of Star Wars. In any case, you are welcome." Silence" If you don't have anything else to say, I'd like to go home now."

"Of course, sure" Amy allowed for a few quiet moments to pass to watch him leave before she turned into the house. Here it comes. The nagging questions from her mother. Why are you late? Who is the boy at the door? Why is your dress dirty? Have you spent the evening fraternizing with whores and gang bangers? The daily interrogation from Barbara Fowler.

Strangely the house was quiet. The house was always quite her mother didn't believe in speaking above a whisper, but tonight was her prom night she was expecting to be met at the door with probing questions or at least wanting to know how her night went.

She searched the house quietly until she finally she saw a small light coming from the study.

"There you are" she said stepping into the amber lit room. Her mother was glued to the leather chair with her legs clasped together in a slant. Her incessant words of wisdom practically ransacked Amy's ear. _Cross at the ankle, only uncultured women cross at the knee._ And Barbara rather be rotting dead than to be considered an uncultured woman. She had a perfectly sculpted hairdo that fit her lips perfectly painted in a thin line. She was like the rest of the furniture in the room unmoving, cold, and lifeless. Perfect.

"I assumed you'd gone to bed." Amy continued after a moment of silence. "I'm back." She said louder. Her mother was so unresponsive she began to worry if she'd somehow gone mute.

"I see. I saw the light on the porch." She finally said.

"Oh, that was just Sheldon, mother. He's Mary Cooper's youngest son. You know the Coopers, he's harmless."

"I never said otherwise."

"Oh, well- I just assumed you would have a lot of questions about my night." She tripped over her words not knowing how to operate with her mother's indifferent demeanor. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" Amy asked. Without looking from her book she gestured with her premature wrinkled hand to the sofa across the room.

It was exactly what Amy assumed going to the principal's office would be like. Any lookers on would have assumed this was the situation, anything but a mother and her daughter after her first prom.

"Thank you." Her mother threw over her book.

"T-thanks? Thank you for what?"Amy inquired.

"I'd like to thank you for ruining our reputation, you single handily ruined the Fowler name in one night." She finally set her book down staring at Amy with a Wintery stare.

"What are you talking about mother?"

"I knew you shouldn't have gone. You went out in whore-ish makeup and a dress that left nothing to the imagination with some imbecile boy and stayed out all hours of the night. I've been receiving phone calls from everyone in the neighborhood saying they saw you laying on the side of the road like a drunk."

"Let me explain-" Amy tried to interject.

"While you were out there doing God only knows, did you ever stop to think about anyone but yourself? Your father worked his entire life to build a good life for you and you are constantly trying to destroy what he's built. He honored his parents and their reputation and here you come to ruin that for dates and fun. He's not even here to mend the damage you've done. Your father would be so disappointed in you?"

"Mom, may I please talk?"

"No, you listen. You are a different type of girl and you need to be treated differently, which is why I have such a strong hold on you. I keep you in the house because you are an obvious target for bullying" Barbara's remark stung. Amy understood she wasn't the prettiest, funniest, or skinniest girl in the class and she was at peace with that. However, her mother calling out her insecurities was painful. "Don't be so sensitive Amy I'm not saying you're unsightly. I'm saying you are different and I can't treat you like every other child. When I try to treat you normally you end up on the side of Greenidge Street. So I don't want to hear anymore about what everyone else does, or what you think is unfair. " Amy had given up trying to explain the situation to her mother. She wanted to confide in her about the events that happened tonight and how they made her feel. She wanted to know what about herself made her such an easy target for bullying? Why the students would want to publicly humiliate a person for their sick enjoyment? She wanted to know why she couldn't stop thinking about Sheldon and his comment all night long? But that conversation didn't fit in with her mother's plan so it was unwelcome and ignored.

"I hope your night was worth it. Because this is the last time you will act like the average hooligan in this god forsaken town again." She gestured toward the window, closed her eyes and held her head to the sky like she was trying to gain whatever composure she had left. "Get ready for bed, you have to be at the university early tomorrow and it's going to take you all night getting the dirt out of your hair." She didn't even bother looking at her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

The following day Amy didn't even greet her mother at breakfast like she normally does. She felt like a total badass. She would have hopped on her Harley with a sleeveless man but motorcycles were dangerous and she couldn't drive. When her mother told her goodbye she responded with a simple shrug. Barbara Fowler was going to learn today. None of her mother's shenanigans could ruin her time at the lab. She was finally in her sanctuary. To Amy, nothing in the lab looked like gross bacteria, dead animals, or nerdy people. To her it was possibility, new discoveries and hope. It was the only place she fit in.

"Hazah!" She exclaimed racing to her petri dishes. She was overjoyed to see the bacteria population had almost doubled in size, she had a slew of data to experiment on. Without any hesitation she pulled her hair in a ponytail, grabbed her notebook and pen and begin recording.

Although worn, she loved her notebook and pen. She'd bought the notebook at a garage sale for only 10 cents and her father gifted her the pen when she was 10. Amy actually wanted her 10th birthday gift to be a green vest and a badge initiating her into the Girl Scouts but her mother didn't approve of the organization and forbade it. So her father bought them lab coats with 'F.A.S.' embroidered on the pocket and a white and navy blue pen. They called themselves 'Fowlers- About-Science'. It was just the club Amy needed and its sole member was her best friend, her father. She would accompany him on experiments at other universities and laboratories, on Wednesdays they would go on dates to local restaurants or to the movies, and on the weekends he would take her to concerts in the neighboring cities varying from classical orchestras to Neil Diamond performances. He filled in the empty spots where friends would be, and he did it without making her compromise who she was.

Once, there was a replica of a traditional Victorian castle built in the next town over. It was equipped with a museum giving you thorough information about the middle ages. There was a restaurant that served traditional Victorian food, and a band that played period music, but the real reason Amy begged her father to take her was because of their costume contest. She wanted to come dressed as princess Victoria. She picked a beautiful creme dressed detailed with Tulle, lace and beautiful beads from a specialty shop in Austin. Her mother even promised she could go to a hair salon to get her hair done. It was the night Amy had waited for.

Her father drove all the way to the dress shop to pick up the dress in time for Amy to have finished her hair appointment so they could head to the festival. Amy jumped in anticipation for his arrival. Every minute past 7:00 Amy's anticipation increased. He called informing her he had a flat tire and was on the side of the highway fixing it.

Amy imagined that when the accident happened the other cars put their best efforts into avoiding her father. Or that the other drivers on the road ran to his rescue trying to unpin him from the two vehicles. Anything was more hopeful than a car of drunken teenagers striking her father who was trying to make it to his daughter.

His death became so difficult it broke what was left of their family. Her mother's hold on Amy's life became stronger, trying to hold onto the only family member she had left. So she made decisions about where Amy could go and how long she could be there. Who she gave her permission to befriend and who and what she permitted her from doing. While Amy understood that was a part of her mother's grieving she couldn't help but feel her life was suddenly taken too. The only place Amy could live was in the lab. The familiar sound of heels clicking against the floor caught her attention.

"Mrs. Gephart, ! Do you have a minute?" Amy called as the University's dean walked pass.

"Mrs. Fowler, you're here early." Her lush voice beamed into the room: Mrs. Gephart was magnificent. She was the dean of the top science department in Texas, she was published in numerous science journals and spoke at every major university in the world. She had two beautiful daughters and a sexy husband whom she parades around. And she was Amy's fathers' closest friend at the university. "You know, we've already accepted you into our dual enrollment program you don't have to show off anymore."

"I know, it's just the lab is… way better than being home, right now" Amy didn't continue. She'd already spoken too much. Mrs. Gephart was spectacular but she was like a mockingjay. If anything gossip worthy landed in the hands of Mrs. Gephart it would surely reach everyone in the southwest by the weekend. "L-look!" Amy said changing the subject "The cells we implanted with the disease have doubled. It's at a perfect amount to see if the antivirus will either kill the cells or destroy the virus." Amy gushed to the professor. She didn't wanted to seem too excited, but she couldn't help it. When it came to science Amy was like her mother at a garage sale. "I came across an article in Neuron about how Dr. Mackenzie, you know the psychological neurobiologist at Harvard, is the first scientist to safely use pigs for his addictive experiments. I'm really interested in addictive tendencies in smokers but I am curious to use monkeys instead. They're peculiar little creatures and I love them! In fact, it seems every scientist at Harvard is doing groundbreaking work, maybe I could study there someday!" She rambled "Although, I love Eastern Texas, it's my father's alma mater but going to Harvard would be a dream!"

All Mrs. Gephart could do was laugh. Amy thought so rapidly it was hard to keep up. She inherited that trait from her father. He could talk about science for hours and wouldn't let the other person get in a fraction of a word before he'd changed to the next subject. She was glad Amy still carried part of him in her.

"You're so much like your father." She started remembering back on her old friend.

"I know. I have his eyes, his stubbornness, and his families generous hips. My mother reminds me constantly." Amy sighed.

"I meant you have his love for science. I was afraid after his death your mother would pull you from science because of the memories. But I'm glad you continued. You have a promising future in this field." She opened her arms and hugged Amy tight just like her father. "Just don't forget, while science is your love, family is your life. Don't spend all of your time here, spend time with your mother, your friends and your boyfriend."

Amy wanted to burst into obnoxious cackles at her obscene comment, but laughing in her face would be rude. Unless it was to eat, Amy rarely found herself in her mother company and she certainly didn't enjoy the moments she was. Unless her cat and her schools' janitor could be considered friends, she was friendless. And a boyfriend, impossible. But Mrs. Gephart didn't need to be privy to Amy's pathetic life so she politely smiled and allowed for the professor to get on her way.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

It was a good day to be Amy Farrah Fowler. That was probably the first time those words were ever in the same sentence but today it was true. While she was at the lab Mrs. Cooper called her mother informing of her night and what Amy was going through. Because of that her mother, surprisingly, bought Amy a new purple paisley blouse with a matching headband as an apology gift. She started a new bottle of dandruff shampoo that smelled like melon cucumber. And she had a fresh new pad of Dr. Scholl's in her shoes today, so she felt even taller. She was truly happy this morning, geared up and ready to head to schoo- Oh God! She had to go to school today. She completely forgotten about her Carrie themed prom night. Seven hours at school meant her suffering to avoid all the looks of pity, tone out the snickering, and combat the slew of hurtful comments. Whatever joy she had when she woke up was quickly replaced with dread.

She arrived at the school as early as possible to get where she needed without any students around. Peeking into the front door she only saw the janitor at the end of the hallway so she rushed into the front corridor and raced to her physics class. To her excitement she made it without crossing paths with any students or teachers. She hoped the same for when she entered the room. Before she could open the door she heard fumbling from inside. Drats! Someone was here. She decided to take her chances and enter, maybe the person inside didn't attend prom, or a kind soul who would sympathize with her. She concluded anyone in a physics classroom 45 minutes before class started was obviously someone who didn't care about petty after school gossip. Slipping her head across the threshold she saw Sheldon standing at the chalkboard. Yes! Maybe things were coming up Amy after all.

"Sheldon!" She girlishly squeaked.

"My God, woman!" He jumped at the sudden interruption and angrily slammed the chalk on the ledge. "Why are you yelling indoors? This isn't a rodeo, you know. It's school, a forum of philosophy, mathematics, and science where energy is shared between brilliant minds." He preached proudly.

"This isn't Ancient Athens or Egypt, Sheldon." She said with a dead enthusiasm, "It's East Texas. And besides ourselves, the only other brilliant mind here is that guy who knows how to get food out of the vending machines with a quarter on a string."

"You're right." Defeated "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy it's you I came across first and not any of the other students. I really needed to see a friend."

"Shhh!" He leaped to the door and slammed it shut. "How dare you just throw around the "F" bomb like that?"

"Wha- I didn't say anything." _Not this early in the morning!_ Amy wasn't prepared to deal with the school and Sheldon.

"Just because you've been in my house after dark doesn't mean you can go around saying we're…" he looked around like a squirrel in traffic, "friends. We have neither discussed nor signed any official friendship agreement."

"Friendship agreement?"

"Yes, a notarized document detailing the days I allow you to sit with me at lunch, how we may go about scheduling activities, the minutes I allow myself to listen to you talk and the hours you are blessed to listen to me talk." Her obvious confusion made him press on "How have you conducted any of your other relationships without contracts to keep them in their place?"

"Sheldon, we don't need a contract or any agreement, we can just be friends. We can hangout at each other's lockers in-between class, and we can sit with each other during lunch and in class, we can even do things outside of school, without any documented scheduling, and we can talk about whatever we feel for however long. Doesn't that sound nice?." Amy explained.

"Hangout? No documented scheduling? Talk for however long? Are you on drugs, woman?" Not only was she asking him to abandon his lifelong relationship obsessions but she was doing so after only spoken to him for a single night. What other nonsensical demands would she muster up if they were to become friends?

"Amy, I was in a friendship agreement with my mother for 5 years until I got to know her a little better and then we developed a maternal agreement. I was in a rock solid roommate agreement with my sister until she moved down the hall. And I'm still in an acquaintance agreement with my brother. You see now? Starting a friendship agreement with you will be something that takes years. I'm sorry little lady, that's just how this man rolls."

He gave her a look of pity and turned back to the board to finish his precious task. Usually, if someone treated Amy with this much opposition she would crawl back into her shell and scurry away. But there was something in Sheldon that, like a moth to a flame, attracted her.

But Sheldon wasn't a generic light , he was a powerful LED bulb that required much more care. Endlessly pestering him to become friends would do more harm than help. If she were going to crack him she would need to dig through her neurological bag of tricks.

"Perhaps you're right," she started "it was silly of me to believe someone as brilliant as you would want to be friends with some like me."

"Flattery will get you nowhere Ms. Fowler." Dryly.

"Oh, but it's true! You're the brightest boy- I mean- man I know. You're far more advanced than anyone in this town, your future endeavors will be exceptional and you're well on your way to being awarded a Nobel. You're like the Stephen Hawking of our generation! Pardon me...I mean you're the...Sheldon Cooper of our generation." Hook. Line and sinker. Amy could tell by the stillness in his back that he was devouring every narcissistic compliment she was feeding him. Like a siren to a sailor he was entranced by her spell. "I can't help but noticing one small blemish that places Hawking above you."

His head perked up

"A minuscule observation really. An imperfection, if you will. If I remember correctly Stephen Hawking, as brilliant as he is, has no problem engaging in social relations such as friendships. He even had a wife!"

His head slowly turned.

"Now that I think of it even other genius like Tesla or Einstein had relationships. To bad you couldn't get over your obsession- I mean ritual- of controlling all of your social relationships. You could have been considered one of the greats. I guess if you're not a genius like them, then you're regular like...like your brother, perhaps."

"OKAY! That is the rankest pile of malarkey I have ever smelt! I am not comparable to the same person who inhaled a pea through his nose and then spit at my face!" He huffed and began stomping in circles. He stopped and looked at Amy as if she were a new woman. "I am without a doubt a genius when I was 3 for our talent show I recited pi to the 100th degree. At 10 I competed in a science and math competition against graduate students and won. How dare you call me a less than?"

"I'm sorry Sheldon. I'm only stating what I observe...If only there were some way you could prove you can be a genius and a social being. An experiment, perhaps? In a controlled environment, with someone you knew. Someone as equally advanced as you, someone of the opposite gender..."

...

...

...

She could see him thinking but the blank look on his face and the silence made her nervous. Maybe she went too far? She didn't really know him yet and here she was exposing his deepest fears. Surely, he'll never speak to her again.

"Proposal" he started apprehensively "We conduct a 6 week experiment that would prove that I am capable of being academically _and_ socially advanced. I will be the control and you the variable. At the then end of the 6 weeks we can decide if this is friendship if something worth continuing or not. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Good."

"Good."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Amy Farrah Fowler

Diary Entry 170

April 24, 1995

I've experienced things.

Womanly things.

Things that make elderly women clutch their pearls.

Things that make grown men blush.

Things that are forbidden in church.

I've experienced the longing stare of a man!

I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll begin with the top.

It began the night of prom (Refer to diary entry 152).

1- Sheldon walked me home and complimented me on my intelligence.

2- I saw him at school the next day...we were alone!

3- I mentioned we become friends. He vehemently denied.

4- I convince him otherwise.

5- He agreed to a friendship agreement that would test the possibility of a friendship for 6 weeks.

6- He stared longingly into my eyes. The connection between us was so strong I could almost read his mind. He probably was thinking: _She's beautiful. She's intriguing and intelligent and brilliant. I secretly hope this experiment is successful because I want to be her friend. Possibly a boyfriend, or a lover, or a husband, or father of her children!_

He even smiled at me! No guy, beside my dad and my biology teacher, has ever smiled at me. Laughed at me? Of course, but never a genuine smile. His smile...

It was warm, tender like flowing honey, or the warm evening sun. It was everything I needed and what I wanted more of. Who would have thought that I, Amy Farrah Fowler, would become lucky enough to gain a friend.

Always,

AFF

The rest of the day Amy stumbled her way through classes that weren't challenge to her, classes that weren't challenging to anyone, and blocks of time where everyone slept which they called class. But none of that matter because that singular moment with Sheldon brightened her entire day. Her bones were looser and her blood ran faster. She felt like one of the girls from the Tampax commercial, where they are so happy about bleeding profusely for a week that they dance on a beach in white satin. She floated down the entrance steps onto the front lawn and sauntered through the forest of students until she reached the sidewalk preparing to waltz her way home. That was until she heard a spit filled "pssst" coming from the tree beside her.

She turned her head in interest.

"Pssssssst" She tried to ignore it. _You're having a good day Amy, why ruin it with this trick behind the tree._ She was probably meant to investigate the noise only to find some snickering jock smashing a pie in her face while the rest of the campus came running like wild baboons _. Not today, not this time._ She thought and continued.

"Pssssssssssssssstah!" Any harder and the person would have bursts a blood vessel. She turned facing the noise and saw the edge of a pink glittered backpack.

She gave in and rounded the tree to find a petite girl in a massive metal brace. The body was covered in cheap 'You Rock!' stickers while the poles were wrapped in pink and green pipe cleaners.

"Cassy Cho?" Amy asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. I was so worried, Amy!" She said out of breath bombarding Amy with a metallic and wiry hug. The edge of her brace weighing into Amy's side. "I've been so worried about you, I couldn't sleep. Truly, I haven't slept a wink since- well, let's just say since" she ducked her head and whispered like the government was listening in on their conversation. "you know what. Oh, it's truly awful what they did to us, truly! How are you hanging up?" She stopped, her eyes as wide as bottle tops.

"I'm" she assumed she should say she was "handling it" "bent but not broken" or "I'm glad I made it through" any of the cliche phrases someone says when they want to seem like they are fine but are nowhere near fine. But Amy didn't feel broken or anything close. She had gotten something out of it that made the night better; friendship. "I'm better".

"Oh, that's amazing. I wish I could say the same but that night eats me up every time I think about it. Every time I see the students I completely panic, I feel like it's happening all over again." Her face had turn a dangerous red just talking about the situation. "I-i can't stay here anymore, truly…I'm changing school this week." Casey confessed looking like a guilty puppy. Her head was tucked in her chest and she could barely look up.

"Oh" was all Amy could say.

"Oh, I know I'm a coward for running away but these people are cruel and there is nothing keeping me here!" Casey continued to talk flailing her arms wherever her brace would allow her, but Amy stopped listening. She spotted Sheldon at the opening of the building looking around like he was searching for someone. Was he looking for her? Maybe he wanted to begin their friendship agreement? She thought filled with glee. "Shelby is changing school with me, and Lillian is going to be homeschooled for the rest of the year. Don't be upset that we're leaving you! We support you always and if you need someone to talk to we're here but, there is nothing good here anymore. I'm happy about the change, truly." The edge of her lips were itching to smile but she stared at Amy waiting for permission to do so. Old Amy would have felt neglected that the only people who understood her pain were abandoning her like an old dog. But she was changing and she wanted them to feel safe and happy. She wanted herself to feel safe and happy.

"I understand, Cassy." Amy said gently hugging her. "And I'm not upset, I'm happy for you. There just might be one good thing that's keeping me here." Amy said in Sheldon direction, who was headed toward her. "I've got to go Cassy. Take care!" She shooed her off.

"Amy Farrah Fowler, a word please" Sheldon hustled to her like a worried ruler. "I know we've verbally agreed to a 6 week friendship agreement, but I trust a woman's promise about as much as I trust my left thumb; and my left thumb and I have suffered serious loyalty issues as of late. So, I would like to sign a notarized document that would lay out the parameters of our friendship agreement." He said, and Amy didn't heard a word of it. All she noticed was how quick his mind worked. How she could see the thought forming and the exact moment the thought came to his mind, it was spectacular.

"Umm I- i. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well my original thought was to fly to Philadelphia and sign it where they signed the American Constitution but I'd die if some greasy guy named Big Jerry tries to sell me a hypertension stuffed hoagie covered in cheese. Then I thought about the local court house but my brother has been there so many times they know us by name. So, after exhausting all of my good options I've settled on signing the documents during a night of meaningless conversation, subpar atmosphere, and high calorie food"

"I don't understand"

"Dinner at my house." _Oh_ "To sign papers and clear any comments questions or concerns." Her ears perked like a dog hearing a rattling doorknob. Was this a date? He wasn't explicitly saying 'Amy, will you go on a date with me?' But he didn't seem like the type to do so. The way he rocked on his feet, and failed to keep solid focus, showed that he was unfamiliar with this type of social interaction. He was a genius but still a teenage boy. A dinner invitation from Sheldon would be intricate, something only someone of the mind could understand and appreciate, it'd be awkward, because that's just who he was but it'd be sweet because that's who he is as well. Sheldon fiddled with his thumbs and searched the sky.

"Is this a…date?" Amy asked hopefully.

"No, it's dinner at my house to clear any comments, questions, or concerns."

"Right."

"So what time do you normally eat dinner? So I can compare it to mine and find a median time. Therefore we can both eat close enough to our regular schedules, so our digestion routines won't be disrupted."

"May I suggest 7:00pm. All good television comes on at 7:00/8:00 so your siblings will be pressured to eat quickly and leave. And the nightly news comes on at 10:00 so your Mom won't be tempted to chat and pull out any dreaded baby pictures." The more the spoke the wider his eyes grew, he had never seen anything like this before. Someone who understands the importance of a schedule. "Therefore leaving our consumption of food from 7 to 8:30 and time to read and sign documents from 8:30-9:30."

"Brilliant." He stepped back to fully examine who he was talking to. He studied her shoes and passed to her sweater and hair, but landed on her eyes, and he lingered there longer than needed. His face traveled through the gambit of emotions. He looked uncomfortable, then confused, and finally his brow relaxed and he looked curious. "Hm. 7:00 it is then. I look forward to tonight. Good day Ms. Fowler."

"Same to you, Mr. Cooper." She waited for Sheldon to walk off but he remained in his same shocked state and closely watched her leave.

Interesting.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 6

 _It's not a date._ She drilled on her walk home.

 _It's not a date._ She thought as she hovered over bed, which was now a forrest of pleated dresses and corduroy skirts.

 _It's not a date._ She reminded herself after she applied another layer of soft pink lip gloss.

 _It's not a date,_ but it's proper etiquette to look your best for a dinner "not" date. And as a society ready lady of Miss Lorelai's Etiquette School for Girls, Amy zipped the back of her pastel blue dress, secured her jeweled hair pin, and made her way downstairs.

Her mother waited at the bottom of the staircase also dressed nicely for dinner. After the prom fiasco Barbara banned Amy from going places, besides school and the lab, by herself. Pair her mother's argument against Amy's reluctancy to argue and they agreed that they would both have dinner at the Coopers. Confirming that this was in fact NOT a date.

Despite how lovely her mother looked wearing the pale pink shawl or with her hair down it couldn't distract Amy from the fact that her legs shook the entire drive and she checked her appearance at every red light.

"There is no need to be nervous mom, it's not like it's a date or anything." The sound of 'date' set panic loose in her mother's chest, her eyes jumped wildly as she tugged at the collar of her shirt. She stifled a laugh. Amy often found herself an emotional wreck at the hands of her mother so she secretly enjoyed seeing her so distraught for once.

"I know, I know." She responded barely over a whisper as she fixed her blouse for the 100th time. After her husband died Barbara grew a hatred for being social, building and maintaining relationships, and being a human. She'd virtually cut off all contact from her husband's family. Only speaking to them in 4 year intervals having the same conversation.

" _It's been so long. We have to do better."_

" _I'm fine"_

" _Amy is fine."_

" _Let's not wait another 4 years. Bye"_

And sure enough four years later they would have the same conversation. A part of Amy understood her mother's response after his death, you can't lose someone close to you if you aren't close to anyone, but regardless she wasn't going to let that ruin her first "non" date.

"Mother, just smile. Say please and thank you, and laugh when everyone else laughs and you'll be fine." Amy said as comforting as she could. "Act like you're having a conversation with a buyer at one of your garage sales!"

"The only thing I've said to buyers are estimated prices, and threats until they lower the price." She replied embarrassed.

"Okay, I'll do most of the talking. Just don't say anything bad about trains, Star Wars, Star Trek, physics, Leonard Nemoy, or Stephen Hawking and you'll be fine." Each item she listed her mother gripped the steering wheel tighter. Her knuckles paled and her skin looked like it was threatening to rip. "Just smile and nod"

"Smile and nod. I've got this!" Barbara said not believing a word.

"So Mary, did you see the news about those Christians protesting on Goodman Road today? A bunch of zealous religious nuts if you ask me." Barbara said. Amy could already see the newspaper headlines 'Woman starts World War 3 at non-dinner date.' Because by the venomous snarl on Mary's face, World War 3 looked like the only possible response.

Amy prayed a silent prayer to every god and self proclaimed god to allow a massive hole to swallow her and remove her from this awful dinner. What harm would it do if she left anyway, no one was enjoying it.

Missy, spent the first part of the dinner on the phone. The spiral cord tangling her body like a snake. Amy should have offered her a lesson in whispering because her not so silent 'I can't believe she's at my house right now' comment was louder than George's chewing. His mouth never closed, he sat hunched over his plate: the fork and knife clasped in his hands like a barbarian. Throwing handfuls of food into his mouth and swallowing. It was amazingly disgusting. At least her mother did as she was told and did nothing but smile and nod. So when Mary asked her where she worked, or what she enjoyed doing in her free time Barbara smiled and nodded. And when Missy jokingly asked if she was mute, she smiled and nodded.

"No, Barbara I did not see the protestors." Mary finally said. "Maybe it was because of those hoarding garage sale lunatics that make the neighborhood look like a thrift store threw up." Mary said in a sickeningly sweet southern accent.

Smile and nod.

Thirty minutes had passed and Sheldon still hadn't come from his room to eat. So Amy's perfectly brushed hair was ruined by the humidity in the kitchen and her face was so red he would probably think she was running a fever. She needed a moment to herself. But excusing herself outside would be too obvious, that would lead to people following her and asking probing question like, "Are you alright?" "You look sick?" "Are you about to vomit?" Because she wasn't a good liar she'd have to respond "No I'm not alright, I'm miserable" "No, I'm not sick, I'm humiliated into the next millennium" and "Yes, I am about to vomit."

She needed something that would secretly remove her from this circus for a few seconds. Whether by impulse or stupidity she placed a trembling hand on her fork and quickly threw it off the side of the table.

"Clumsy me!" She she said unconvincingly. Luckily everyone was preoccupied with themselves that nobody noticed her drop to the ground.

It was dark underneath the table, and the noise above was muffled by the wooden top and the detailed ivory cloth. She let her heavy head fall forward and finally released a built up sigh of tension. Her face being only a few inches from George's foul cowboy boots was the most relaxing moment of her night. How great!

Once the moment passed she should have gone back to her seat; she'd gotten what she needed, don't stretch the moment. But like every unsuccessful robber she stayed and preoccupied her time by observing everyone's shoes.

Missy had on typical loud clacking cowboy boots. On the side etched in the torn leather with a knife was MC + and a litany of short lived male initials.

Mary had on sensible kitten heels. Appropriate for church and running around the house because of her kids.

Barbara; tan orthopedic shoes which she also made Amy wear. Because no sensible woman would be caught in non-sensible shoes. George had on work boots and Sheldon had on brown loafers.

Sheldon!

She saw his two toned loafers standing a few steps away from her side. Before she had time to gain composure she sprang up from the floor like an enthusiastic pop tart ready to be eaten. Her head hit the edge of the table sending George's glass of tea hurling to the floor. Broken glass, syrupy tea, and ice bathed nearly all of the right side of the floor.

"God!"The word sprang out like a bullet, she exaggerated the ' O' and popped the 'D' for extra emphasis. Mary sucked in a slash breath and clutched her crucifix necklace. "Oh, I'm sorry. I can- I'll just. I'll clean it right up!" She fell to her knees and began scrubbing the floor like an overworked orphan. Her thin napkin absorbed as much liquid as it could take and was now dissolving in her hand. She needed more paper towels but they were on the other side of the kitchen. And that meant her getting up and walking across the entire room and facing everyone. And facing Sheldon. She'd rather be back on stage at prom.

She continued to scrub her thin napkin on the tile floor with so much vigor she was sanding her red knuckles on the hardwood. The kitchen was soon to be a syrupy mess for the flies in a couple of minutes.

"Amy, stop dear. It's fine. Accidents happen, leave it there and I'll mop it up." Mary pushed from the table and slowly made her way to Amy's side. She placed a gentle hand on her back trying to coax her off of the floor.

"N-No thank you, Mrs. Cooper. Everything's under control." Her voice was failing her. Between her stifled breath and tense neck she was lucky she managed to squeak out anything. Let alone anything comprehensible.

"Bless your heart sweetie." Mary southernly insulted "You're only making it worse. Please sweetie I've cleaned up after my husband for thirty years and my daddy's hog. One was covered in dirt and other questionable substances all day, ate Lord knows what, and had no sense of hygiene, and the other one was a farm animal. I think I can take a little spill." She rubbed her back like she did the night of prom. She actually felt like it wouldn't be that bad if she stood up.

"Amelia!" The shrill voice hit her ear like a dart. "Get up this instant." So much for the encouragement.

Her mother levitated across the room speaking through an inhumanly clenched jaw. She was standing directly above her and Amy could feel her hot and stifled breaths on her neck. Barbara was a filled balloon ready to be let go and rip from every direction destroying everything in her path. Amy knew if she stayed under their any longer the consequences would be too great for her to handle.

The moment she stood she wished she was back under the table. It was just as she expected. Missy held her head in her hands while she shook with laughter. George, surprisingly and not surprisingly, was still devouring the remaining chicken and potatoes as if this entire ordeal wasn't occurring beside him. Mary tried to give Amy a reassuring smile but it turned into a piteous stare.

Amy was afraid to turn and look at Sheldon. She desperately wanted to build a friendship with him. He was intelligent, witty, and caring. The type of companion Amy needed more than she care to admit. She finally nudged him enough to consider a friendship and she ruins it by acting like this is her first time being around other people. She would have to resort to her mother's famous saying _"Find a fictional friend in a book. You can do whatever you want in your imagination."_ So much for having a real friend.

"Let's. Go." Her mother demanded. She had no energy to protest her mother. She hung her head to her chest and headed for the door.

"Wait" Sheldon caught up to her and stopped her "You can't leave."

"W-wwhat?"

"We haven't finished eating dinner or dessert, we haven't made any revisions to the friendship agreement, and no documents have been signed. If you leave now, that'll throw off the entire schedule."

"You still want to sign the agreement? Even after all of this?" A soaked piece of napkin fell from her hand as a button to the horrendous event.

"After all of what? Spilling tea? That's no fault of yours, for some reason my mother is incessant on using furniture from the Antebellum era. So the legs are loose, the top is wobbly, and the wood is old and splitting. It's a wonder this entire meal isn't on the floor. Besides, I occasionally suffer from the misfortune of imbalance and have spilled a drink time to time. Don't fret over something beyond your control." His hand was still on her shoulder. She swore she felt his thumb caress her slightly. His interjection wasn't moving or heroic but it was enough to reassure Amy that he genuinely wanted to be friends with her and her colossal mishap was nothing. "So, shall we continue with dinner, that chocolate pie won't be here forever."

She wanted to cry. She couldn't tell if it was from Sheldon standing up for her or the fact that her knuckles were raw from scrubbing. Either way she was touched. He stood up for her.

Sheldon Cooper stood up for Amy. She couldn't deduce if it were exciting or pathetic but this was the first time someone ever stood up for her. Judging stares, she was used to. Quick glances away trying to ignore her, been there done that. But having someone lifting you on their back and fighting her battle was something new to her. She wanted to hug him and thank him endlessly. She settled with mouthing "thanks".

Her mother eyed Amy from her fidgeting toe to her dewy eyes. Who was his man bewitching her daughter? She turned to Sheldon and mentally dissected him as he sat beside Amy. The pair exchanging shy glances and smiles the entire meal.

Everything post the ice tea conundrum went well. Mary berated Sheldon for eating before praying. Sheldon berated Mary saying "we're eating chicken fried steak, God needs to bless our diabetic levels, not the food." Her mother and Mary became cordial enough to have meaningless small talk. While Amy and Sheldon snuck to the porch to finish their agenda.

The pair sat on the porch swing, both huddled over a hot kettle of tea and two filled mugs. Amy was a symphony of "mmhmms' 'ahh's' and ' oh's' while reading the document.

Article 1

Communication

Daily communication must be had by the two participating parties for a minimum of 2 hours a week to a maximum of 14 hours a week. The time can be allocated with a 2 hour maximum per day.

During the allocated conversation at least 50% of the conversation must be for party A( Sheldon Lee Cooper). 25% may be for party B ( Amy Farrah Fowler) the other 25% must be for silence.

School and Outside Gatherings

Both parties members are allowed to eat lunch together only twice a week. Where the communication rules will apply.

Both parties are allowed 3 gatherings outside of school hours. All gatherings outside of school, including house dinners, museums, lectures, movies, train conventions, Comic Con, must end strictly at 10pm. All communication rules apply.

At any moment if any party member abuses or breaks the regulations set the contract will be broken and the trial and friendship will cease to exist.

"It's a cute draft, I must say."

"Cute" he said bewildered. His contracts weren't some notebook paper a child gives to their Mom promising they won't paint the walls again, his contracts were music. A perfectly orchestrated page of rules and sanctions, hereby's and therefore, exceptions and limitations. Cute? Nothing close.

"Precisely. Well, it's well crafted but it seems you've missed a litany of loopholes. I know the intellectual thrill one gets when uncovering and getting through a loophole. And I would hate for you to miss that opportunity because it's so skewed in your favor."

He was thinking. About what was the mystery. His face was a wash of bewilderment and awe. Who was this woman? This woman who challenged him intellectually. No one dare call him out on his work, yet here was the one.

"Interesting. I've never thought of it that way." He stroked his stubbled chin. "I do love the look of defeat when I've swindled someone by my intellect."

"Exactly." Amy never actually cared about Sheldon fulfilling his desire to intellectually defeat the world. She just wanted more time for a friendship and less of an evil genius/ minion relationship. They sat with their knees daring to kiss, equalizing the agreement.

"Ms. Fowler I must say no one has ever criticized my work before. It's always been exemplary. But the suggestions you've offered have made the contract even stronger. Well done." He picked up his mug and held it up for a congratulatory toast. Amy tucked her head low hiding a grin and her red cheeks. Blushing? That was new.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Monday. The official start of their trial. They'd agreed to a 30 minute getting to know you lunch with 50/ 45/ 5 communication time. Amy couldn't convince Sheldon to get rid of the required silence.

With Amy's excitement she arrived to lunch early at the table they'd agreed upon. She set out her entire lunch in perfect order. Water to the right, sandwich the centerpiece while her chips and apple adorned the sides. Her napkin rested in a perfect triangle beside her fork and knife. Finally, a stack of flash cards with conversation points rested in her lap.

Perfect.

Did this make her look too eager? She didn't wanted to look like a fan or a stalker, but she was so excited she wanted everything to go swimmingly.

Look cool, she drilled to herself. Unfortunately, she was wouldn't know what cool was if it hit her. She scanned the cafeteria for anyone resembling cool and landed on an art student in the corner. Eccentric clothing, reading a collection of Isben while his booted feet rested on the table.

 _Nah._

If Sheldon saw her shoes where he was expected to eat, he'd not only end the agreement but probably call the health department. Another gentlemen sat in the window seal. Black leather jacket, black boots, and greased black hair. He had a box of matches in his hand lighting and burning the stick until it almost touched his fingers then dipping it in his drink.

 _Nuh-uh._

The last one look...promising. A cheerleader at a table full of jacketed jocks. She was leaning against the columns casually flipping her hair and tossing her head back when she laughed. The guys followed her like lambs.

 _Now that's cool!_

She thought as she saw Sheldon maneuvering through the crowd. She leaned against the column waiting for him to approach.

"Sup, Coops." _Cool!_

"Good afternoon Ms. Fowler." He look her up and down at her unusual body position. "Are you tired?"

"What? No, why would you say that."

"You're slumped on the pole like you're exhausted. Do we need to reschedule?"

"NO!" She screamed. "No, I just mean...I'm not tired. I'm actually very excited."

"As am I. I've come up with a stack of cards for conversation and questions. Nothing worse than a jaded conversation."

"Great minds think alike." She smiled and shyly lifted her stack from her lap.

"Ah, question 35 seems promising." He said tossing another chip in his mouth. "If you could pick a national fruit what would it be?"

"Hmm, avocado. So versatile, it can be used in smoothies, dip, sandwiches, savory, sweet. Such an anomaly, that fruit. Too bad I'm allergic."

"Allergic to avocados. Good dropping of information. We can add it to the allergies and immunization records."

"My turn, what's your favorite childhood cartoon?" Amy said.

"Now when you say cartoon what do you mean? Favorite comic to cartoon series? Favorite book to cartoon series? Also, what constitutes as childhood because I considered myself an adult once I was potty trained."

"Tell me all of them!"

"Wowza!" His eyes exploded in excitement. "Well comic to cartoon is The Flash, book to cartoon is Garfield. I love that indifferent, ginger cat." He shuffled through the cards until he came across one that made his eyebrows raise. "Hmm, it's a bit personal."

"That's what we're here for isn't it."

"Agreed, plus knowing your recent criminal history is imperative. So, what the most recent thing you've done in secret or after being told not to?"

Amy wasn't a person who did wrong. She was obedient to a fault so she scrounged her brain to find something bad.

"Last Friday" she began like she was confessing to a crime. "I hid in the closet and read _A Lovers Affair_. I do it every weekend and my mother doesn't know that I'm up that late or that I'm reading a book like that".

"Like what? Is it a steamy romance novel?"

She nodded, blushing at her confession. "But it's so much more than that." She milled her hands in circles trying to create a phrase that was worthy enough to describe such a wonderful book. "It's magical! It's poetic, romantic, and witty, and-and. UGH! You don't want to hear about it."

"No, I do. Tell me about it."

It was Amy's time to brighten. She was like a puppet to her excitement. Bending forward when the tension heightened and falling into her hands when describing the romance, her energy radiated from her fingertips. Without noticing, Amy spent 15 minutes yammering on about her story.

"Oh my goodness, Sheldon. I'm so sorry!" She cowered in embarrassment. He didn't understand her sudden apology. "I've talked for 1/2 of the lunch. I'm breaking the contract on the first day. I'm truly sorry, I'll make it up to you. Next lunch, I'll be as quiet as a church mouse. I promise!" She motioned across her mouth like she was zipping it.

"Hm. We do only have ten minutes left." He waited for his irritation to raise. He hates people hogging the conversation and breaking contracts and Amy had done both in one day. The truth was he didn't want to speak, a first for Sheldon, he wanted to listen. He hung on to every word like a child and took the journey with her. He wanted to see go into her mind and recall the memory and see her act it out. She was captivating. Wait, this is Sheldon Cooper, the only captivating person in his life is himself. "Well we will just have to make up for lost time then. How about lunch tomorrow?" He tried to sound stern. He was a stickler for rules and therefore they must be adhered to but Amy's innocent face weakened his stubbornness.

"Sure, that sounds great. "

"Good." He said.

"Good." She said.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 7

 _She held onto his forearms, her thin fingers gripping his warm fleshy skin."I-i" her eyes pressed to his. His eyes were like the evening sun. "I love you. The way your chest is like a canvas I can trace. The way your heart beat is like a symphony. The way we are one, spiritually, emotionally, physically." Adelaide gripped his arm tighter and pressed her hot body into his. She felt like star, burning, bright, ready to explode at any moment._

"HEY!"

Amy jumped, knocking her book from her lap.

"Hey! You left me! Wait up." She craned her neck toward the commotion and saw Sheldon mousing around the parking lot, chasing a raggedy pick up truck which was speeding through the gates. The bed of the truck bounced up and down threatening to fly off. All the while, his brother and sister were both dangling from the window spilling with laughter at their brother galloping across the pavement. When he reached the end of the block he fell to his knees in a 'why God!' kneel.

"Sheldon!" Amy ran to him in concern. "Are you alright?"

"I can't- I want-I need, I-I" He collapsed to the ground like a fatigued marathoner.

"You only ran 200 feet."

"Yea, but I was running with the car the whole time." He pulled out his inhaler taking an exaggerated drag.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale

…

…

Exhale.

She giggled.

"I'm so glad you're laughing. Need I remind you, I now have to take the 3 miles walk home, in the blazing afternoon sun. Alone! When I'm snatched by a perverted kidnapper I'd like to thank my friends and family for doing absolutely nothing."

"I'm sorry Sheldon, I don't mean to laugh." She said laughing. "I have to walk home too, how about I join you? So at least if the perverted kidnapper tries to snatch you, I'll be there to tell the story of your untimely death."

"Very funny" He held the street pole to pull himself up and brushed the dirt from his pants. "Shall we?"

This was the first time all week that Sheldon and Amy were together and were silent. Of course they had the clause in the agreement for required silence but they rarely adhered to it. Their conversations were like a curious child, full of questions, observations. They gave Ancient Greek Philosophers a run for their money when it came to conversation. So this silence was… awkward. Very awkward.

"So… I, uhh noticed you brought your book to school." Sheldon shakily started.

"Uhh, yea." Amy fumbled with the frayed edges.

"I thought the book was your nighttime secret. What changed?"

"I don't know…confidence perhaps. I guess I realized there is no point hiding what I like." Where was she going with this? He was asking her about a pleasure book and she was bringing up feelings and changes. She had to admit, the two weeks of being Sheldon's contractual friend sparked more change than in her whole life. Instead of walking down the hallway with her head tucked into her sweater she smiled and waved and people. Instead of holding her tongue and suffocating from the weight of her mother's awful punishments she pressed as to why she shouldn't have to take this. Amy was turning into a rebel."l like to read French romance novels, and I'm proud!" She held the velvet book in the air like a trophy.

"Wow! What self help book have you been reading?"

"No self help. Just confidence."

"Confidence?…It looks good on you." Was he flirting? Was he noticing her appearance? Who was this man? Amy ran her eyes up the length of his body, taking in his gangly frame.

"Sheldon you're bleeding!" Amy yelped seeing blood staining his khakis.

"What?" His eyes jumped in panic." Uh, uh, uh. What do we do? What do we do?" He whipped in circles like a ball on a string. "No, not on my Friday pants. Mayday! 911"

"Relax! Um, my house is a few blocks away. We can mend your knee there." He nodded in agreement and dropped all of his weight into her shoulder. Sheldon yowled in pain each step. A yuppie white guy drove beside them asking if they needed helped or a ride. His hatchback was a collage of different "Save the planet" "I love corgis" and "Coexist" stickers and reeked of car fresheners. Of course Sheldon's natural response to his generosity was to say that white guys with dreads can't be trusted and he'd rather have his knee shattered like Nancy Kerrigan than to ride in the back of a hatchback. The guy drove off singing an aria of curse words while Sheldon and Amy held each other in their arms and hobbled along the sidewalk.

"Wait out here and I'll go get the first aid kid." Amy said placing Sheldon on the porch. The walk had only been a mile but it felt like a marathon. Sheldon might have looked gangly but he was a growing 17 year old boy and Amy was exhausted carrying him.

"What, outside? I'm not some stray dog you're trying to secretly keep." Sheldon barked.

"I know. It's just- I'm not allowed to have guest in the house anymore since…well- never mind. Plus my mother isn't home and if she came back and saw you and me in the house alone I'd be locked in the closet for the rest of the century. Just... stay out here!"

After she retrieved two Bandaid's and an alcohol swab she returned to find Sheldon twisting and wincing on the porch.

"What took you so long, woman? I can feel myself getting faint from the blood loss."

"I haven't been gone for 2 minutes. And stop yelling, you're alarming the neighbors." Amy held the cotton swab between two shaky fingers and mistakenly shoved the alcohol swab onto his knee.

"Ow!" Sheldon hollered. "You're killing me!"

"I'm doing the best I can!" Amy yelled back. Her eyes were burning with concern while a curtain of hair was glued to her sweaty forehead. She only wanted to make him better but his impatience was causing her to panic and make mistakes. Amy actually pictured this to be like ER. Hot doctor, hot patient, intense eye coitus, gentle touching, ending in steamy break room sex. Ah, yes! That's exactly how this moment should have played out. Not her wheezing and threatening to cry. In the midst of his agonizing yells Sheldon was able to recognize he was upsetting her. That's the one thing he didn't want to happen, to have an inconsolable woman tending to his bloody gash. He only acted this way because it was how he learned to get attention. His house had never seen a dull moment so he had to make situations dire to have the attention to himself. He'd never known someone who would run to his aid no matter how big or minute the issue.

"You're right." He admitted in a calmer more rational tone. "I didn't meant to yell at you, it just hurts."

"It's alright," wiping the sweat from her brow. "Let me try it again." She placed another cotton swab between her fingers and held it close to his knee.

"Lets count to three, together." He said holding his breath.

"One…two..." It startled Amy to feel another hand atop hers but when she realized it was Sheldons she flipped her hand over and held his sweaty palm in hers, "three."

She dabbed the alcohol on his wound while he squeezed the color from her hand. She slid the bandaid over the cut and brushes her hands in completion.

"You did it!" Her dangerously red face was now returning to his regular pale.

"I did." He said breathy. "That's the first time I've let someone put alcohol on a cut of mine without severely injuring them!"

"Confidence, perhaps?" Amy suggested.

"Perhaps."

The pair sat on the porch a few moments listening to the clamor of the outside. Leaves hitting leaves, tree trunks creaking and cracking, and an altogether sound of Southern ease.

"I guess" Sheldon started barely over a whisper. "Since you saved my life I feel I should repay you somehow." She began to nervously collect the discarded wrappers.

"Don't be silly, I don't need anything. I was just doing the right thing, I have no doubt you would have done the same had it been me."

"Oh. Okay, well…umm. Thanks." He sounded rejected.

"What did you have in mind?" His low face brightened.

"That depends, what do you like?"

"You know what I like." Sheldon gave her a quizzical look at her suggestive response. She sounded like a truck stop hooker, the kind who smokes a pack a day, drinks Bud Light, and lay into the windows of dirty Ford's slurring 'you know what I like, big daddy.' "As in our introductory week taught us enough about each other to know what we like." She corrected.

"Indeed, here's a thought; how about we use our first after school outing this weekend? Come by my house around noon and we'll go from there."

"Where will we go?" Amy asked blushing that Sheldon was asking her on a date. Correction, not a date an after school outing.

"It's a surprise. I know you well enough, I believe I can plan one activity without that much hassle." He nodded his head in completion and slowly inched himself to his feet.

"Miss Fowler?"

"Yes, Mr. Cooper."

"Good day."

"Good day to you as well. And I hope your leg heals."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

NOTE: I really need to say thank you! You guys are literally the nicest people on the planet! Your comments and reviews are so nice, I appreciate everything! Love y'all!

Barbara Fowler was humming. It could mean only two things; she was either in a cheery mood, or the world was coming to an end because Barbara Fowler never hummed while she cooked. Amy doesn't even remember her mother singing her a lullaby when she was a child. Comfort, happiness, and fun were akin to punishments for Barbara. Her fun was to sit, scowl, and punish. So seeing her mother prepare a pot of soup while humming was like seeing a snake do ballet. But, Amy needed her as happy as possible because she was going to ask about her weekend outing with Sheldon.

Best case scenario: She was going to be allowed to go without her mother's supervision. Worst case scenario: She'd make both Sheldon and Amy have a sex lecture for 7 hours. And there was no middle ground with her mother. So Amy continued to sit behind the kitchen door going over in her head the best way to ask. The best decision she could imagine was marching in and demanding what she wanted. Not asking, but telling her mother 'Sheldon and I are going somewhere, I don't know where and you don't need to know. I'll be back whenever I feel like it. And you can't stop me because I'm grown.'

Get in there. She jumped from her place and barged into the kitchen.

"Mother!" she started strong and brash getting her mother's attention. Barbara stopped stirring and whipped her head toward her daughter. Even in a good mood her face was still militaristic and cold. All of the faux confidence Amy entered evaporated like the steam from the soup pot. "Ummm I uhh, need to ask you something." She nodded inviting her into the room. "The prom fiasco was almost three weeks ago and in those three weeks I have been doing a lot of reflection. And I have to say that I agree with you." Her mother's ears perked at Amy's confession of wrongdoing. The one thing her mother loved most was people admitting themselves wrong and her right. When Amy wanted her first microscope she gave her mother a list of things she was right about. She beamed in righteousness. "I do need to stop trying to be like everybody else. I'm not like them, and I need to stop trying to be. I should be around people who like me, and I think I've found someone who really likes me. As a friend! Someone who likes me as a platonic friend" She corrected. "And this platonic, God fearing friend wants to do a platonic, God fearing, scientific activity this weekend. And I was wondering if I could be able to go?" Barbara circled her spoon in her soup in a hypnotizing clank.

"What time this weekend? I have a yard sale to go to Saturday at 1."

Yes! Amy thought.

"Oh darn, the activity is Saturday at noon… Perhaps I could go alone?"

"No." Her mother quickly smothered that flame.

"What if I'm home by 3:00?" Barbara's shook her head no. "2:30?" Amy bartered. "2:00? Come on, Mom. That's barely any time."

"2 hours? It takes less than 2 minutes to get pregnant. In two hours you could turn into a junkie and a whore." Old Amy would have stopped the conversation now. She could never argue with her mother's comebacks. But this was new Amy, who went on non-dates, ate lunch with a boy, smiled at students, had friends, and stood up to her mother.

"Mother, I never ask you for anything, anything! Well not since prom. And I understand you are worried about me being ruined by the temptations of the world. But I learned my lesson of staying away from worldly temptations at prom. I get it. Loud and clear. You were right, I was wrong." Her mother's upright back softened at Amy's confession. "But I've moved on and I really want to spend Saturday with my friend. Give me another chance and I will prove that you have nothing to worry about." It wasn't an in your face demand, but it was getting the job done. She finally stopped tapping her spoon against the side of the bowl and faced Amy, serious and fixed.

"You will be home at 2:00, by my watch. I want a log from both you and your "friend" of everything you did and the times. When you get home, I want vivid descriptions of everything: bathroom, food, people. Everything. And if I decide to follow up and I find there are discrepancies you will stay in the closet so long you'll forget what daylight looks like. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Amy must have been drunk from excitement because she ran to her mother and hugged her. The first few seconds were like hugging a board of plywood but as the moments passed she relaxed a bit. It was the first time Amy had hugged her mother since the funeral.

12:00- University of Eastern Texas main parking lot. The pavement is crunchy from loose gravel. The weather sunny, the wind of blowing from the east.

12:03- Milton Wheeler Science and Technology Center. Glass walls, tan floors, annoyed receptionist. Her name is Michelle, white 180 pounds, red curly hair, green eyes.

12:04-12:10- Sheldon and I are in the lobby near the coat and umbrella rack having a casual introductory conversation. He is wearing brown khakis and—-.

"Are you going to write in that journal the entire time?" Sheldon asked leading her up the stairs.

"Sheldon, I'm not joking. If there are any discrepancies in this log, she will literally lock me in the closet until my skin pales." He rolled his eyes and scoffed at her in derision. "If I say we rode the elevator to the top floor for 45 seconds. She will come here and time how long it takes to ride the elevator to the top. If her time is 30 seconds she'll assume the other 15 seconds were spent on you turning me into a Jezebel. She's crazy like that. I saw her count the grains of rice in her lunch when she suspected someone was eating her food. Crazy."

"Hm, sound like thoroughness to me."

"I'm serious Sheldon, please start writing in yours."

"I have an eidetic memory, I won't forget what we do today." It was Amy's turn to scoff at him in derision.

"Don't believe me?" He challenged. "At 11:58 I was sitting at the left window of the door watching you walk up. You look at your feet when you walk and barely noticed the red Ford barreling towards you," He turned and faced the window as if he were actually rewatching the scene."Luckily the truck was interfered by the speed bump, wherein you looked up and ran across the street bursting into the building. Which was why the receptionist was annoyed because you were disrupting her hard work of sitting and listening to radio soap operas."

"Impressive." She briefly raised her eyebrow. "What do you have planned for today anyway? I made lunch just in case."

"Something you'll enjoy." He smiled a devious grin.

"That's it? Come on, I swindled my mom from chaperoning us, I should at least get to know what we're doing."

"Very well. The activity today is one of the three options. 1, we are attending a lecture of a renowned scientist, 2, we are participating in an experiment or 3, we have a lab to ourselves for 4 hours."

"To do what?"

"Whatever we want to." She raised her eyebrow. Was his sexual inflection intentional or an accident. What do randy teenagers do when they have a room to themselves? Unspeakable things. Surely Sheldon wasn't insinuating they would spend their time making out.

"Oh, should I guess which?"

"I think you know which one it is. Isn't it obvious." Oh my! They were about to make out in the lab. What a remarkable story, Amy's first kiss would be in an empty lab with Sheldon Cooper. Rad!

"Wow! I must confess Sheldon, I didn't peg you as this type of person."

"You're right, but I felt an exception could be made this once. Why not? You only live once, right?" Her chest was pumping like a steam engine. When did Sheldon Cooper become such a Casanova?

"Well, where shall we go?"

"Follow me." Amy's eyes covered the length of his back as he walked ahead of her. She always assumed him to be a wiry kid that couldn't lift a heavy book but his back proved otherwise. His muscles contracted and rose like a machine. It was intoxicating.

"Ladies first." He said opening one side of a pair of double doors.

"How gentlemanly of you." She flirted. She'd read this in her books before. The lordly gentleman sweeps the ingenue into a secluded area and the moment they cross the threshold they are ravishing each other in passion. She almost whipped around and crashed her lips into his but an auditorium of applause interrupted her. She turned to a dimly lit stage while a big bellied man was explaining a map of outer-space. They were in a lecture.

"So?" Sheldon tested behind her. " , Harvard's astrophysicist! You're right, I wouldn't normally attend a lecture on astrophysics but it's growing on me. And you mentioned that Harvard is your dream school, so I figured this was perfect for us both." He all but skipped down the aisle to a pair of seats in the middle.

Although, Amy would have preferred to be acting like a horny hooligan in a lab this was a close second. An hour into the lecture and Sheldon was balancing on the edge of his chair. Most of his body was in the seat in front of him. She had to admit Dr. Sebenza's work was impeccable, he spoke about space so romantically it was impossible to be disinterested. When he finished, Sheldon hooped and hollered like a student section at a football game. She'd never seen him this enthusiastic. It was cute.

"And when he began his presentation on string theory and dark matter, I nearly fainted." Sheldon praised the speaker from the auditorium, through the parking lot, to the benches for lunch and 15 minutes since then. "I can't say it enough, incredible. If every professor at Harvard is like him, you are going to have a great three years."

"Four years, you mean."

"Three. You're going to finish in three, I know it."

"You have a lot of confidence in me, Sheldon." Amy scoffed.

"Shouldn't I? Don't you?"

"I guess, I mean-" She itched in her seat. She abhorred talking about herself, talking about confidence in yourself never actually led to having more confidence. It just made you feel less confident at how little confidence you have in yourself. "Yes, yes I am confident in myself." She tried to pacify him with a lame remark.

"This rock could have convinced me better" he said. "You don't believe in yourself, do you?"

"I do!"

"Have you ever been told? By your mother, by anyone?" he kept pressing.

"Of course, I've been told. My dad told me 'he believed in me' everyday!" She said trying to suspend his pushing.

"Your father passed years ago." Silence. "Have you heard it since then?" Silence. "Amy," he put down his sandwich and leaned close to her. "you are going to graduate college in 3 years. I know it." She blushed not knowing what to say. A demure thank you wasn't enough. But a kiss was too much. She ducked her face in her chest and continued to nibble on her sandwich. "I'm sorry to throw your father's passing in your face. I just needed to prove a point. I'm afraid that sometimes my need to find a solution can outweigh my sympathy to those involved."

"You didn't do anything wrong. You were right. Beside, you understand what it's like to lose a father as well."His head was low and he nodded into his food.

"Thank you, by the way, for the cards?" Amy's face was laden with confusion. "When my father passed you came over everyday giving us sympathy cards but we rejected them." His voice was heavy with shame.

"You guys were grieving, your behavior was understandable."

"Missy and Jr. pelted you with acorns every time you got close to the porch. That's not grief, that's evil." He shook his head as if he were shaking the memory to the ground.

"I don't recall you accepting me with opens arms either." Amy poked.

"I don't know what you are referring to..."

"Is your eidetic memory suddenly failing you?" She teased. "Does 'I am of the talented few who don't succumb to the emotions of everyone else. I am advanced, therefore I don't waste time on crying. I should be giving you a sympathy card, I am sorry that you are of the simple minded majority that feel meaningless emotions. I thought better of you." Sheldon winced remembering his harsh remarks.

"That's not exactly what I said."

"Close enough."A speechless Sheldon was the best Sheldon. Outwitting a genius like him made the success so much sweeter. She didn't luxuriate in her achievement much longer before she began cleaning their discarded lunch wrappers. Amy grabbed her used plastic wrap and straightened it as best as possible before folding it into a tiny square. She did the same for her foil and plastic bag. She gained a habit of turning her trash into shapes and origami after all of the lunches she'd spent alone. She figured arts and crafts was more productive than wallowing in self pity. So preoccupied with her task she didn't notice Sheldon eyeing her the entire time. His stare was springy and a warm smile crept over his face.

"I kept every letter you gave me, you know."

"Why?" Amy laughed off, "they weren't anything special, just dollar store cards. I wouldn't have been upset if you'd thrown them away."

"I keep everything important to me." Everything about him was direct; his words, his focus, his gaze. But the moment Amy looked up at him it all dissipated and his eyes began searching through the grass.

"Like everything, everything?" He nodded slightly. "Why?" There was wonder in her eyes. So much hope she had in him that would be shattered if he let her into his world of psychotic idiosyncrasies. He referred to what he knew best; condescension.

"So that when I win the Nobel I can make sure I give back to the little people."

Amy rolled her eyes and muttered beneath her breath 'Of course.' Sometimes Amy thought Sheldon was changing into a kind, sensitive guy and other times he was a robot programmed to worship himself. "Actually" Sheldon restarted with a softer tone. "I keep them for memories. My pop pop passed when I was 8 and I didn't keep anything from him. I looked up to him more than I did my father but I didn't keep anything of his. So now the memories of him are trapped in my mind. If my mind goes or I forget him, he's gone. But if I keep something, I'll never forget, the memory is tangible and alive." He adjusted his shirt and shifted in his seat.

"Don't be embarrassed," Amy said reaching into her purse. "My dad gave me this pen when I was 11 when I wanted to join Girl Scouts. My mother forbade it so he created a club called 'Fowlers About Science', and he gave me this pen. I use it everyday." She swallowed a quivering lump before continuing. She was nervous to continue speaking about such sensitive topics. But she felt comfortable as if they'd been talking in this manner for years. She felt happy that they were together, sad that it would end, and anxious to see him again. All of these emotions tossed and flipped in the pit of her stomach while she cautiously continued, "Never be embarrassed about things precious to you."

"Never." That one word was the hit that sent Amy's heart out of the field. She couldn't gain feelings for him! Feelings are bad, emotions are unforgiving. They get you mocked in the middle of the gym on prom. But taking a chance didn't sound as repulsive as before.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Day 30 of 42 days of friendship.

Dear diary,

We created a language! It's called 'Kangaga'. I initially wanted 'Nguwaguwa' but Kangaga is starting to grow on me. Nevertheless, we have a language! Perhaps, once we master more vocabulary we can make a flag and an anthem.

Today, Sheldon and I coincidentally wore matching colors and some jerk tried to humiliate us by saying we looked like his grandparents, or the people on the AARP magazines. I was a bit embarrassed to begin but Sheldon leaned over and said the jerks fly was unzipped showing his rubber duck boxers. It's nice having moments that are exclusively ours. It's nice to not be left out, and to be in with him.

Sincerely AFF

You learn a lot about feet when you keep your head down. How someone walks determines their personality, social class, gender. Shoes can be as individual as a piece of hair. By now, Amy was a master of feet. This morning shoes were a pair of thick leathery cowboy boots. The cracks in the leather showed how much they'd been through and the dirt of where they'd been. Their sturdiness was intimidating compared to Amy's soft orthopedic shoe but, hers stood strong.

"Oh, um…I'm sorry, but this seat is taken."Amy said in a mousy voice.

"By who?" The thick necked cowboy slurred back. He slammed his cowboy boot into seat of the chair. Staining it with the smorgasbord of mud, grass, and pig shit. All he needed was a piece of hay hanging from his mouth while chewing a wad of tobacco and he would be a dictionary example of an East Texan hooligan.

"Sheldon." She said.

He looked around partly wondering where Sheldon was, partly wondering who Sheldon was. "Well…he's not here now. But he's on his way and he always sits there…it's kind of his spot."

"Well I don't care if it's his damn bed, I'm sitting here now." Amy's mouth hinged open and closed at his stark rudeness. "Aww what's wrong, dogfight? You upset your boyfriend can't sit with you." He said, noticing her shoulder slump when he plopped his dirty jeans into the seat full of dirt crumbs. He was right, it excited her knowing she would see him everyday. While most of their encounters were filled with engaging conversation or experiments, sometimes him being in the same room as her calmed her down. And today she desperately needed his presence beside her and not in the back of the classroom.

"Amy."

"What?"

"My name is Amy."

"Yea, whatever, dogfight. keep barking." He howled apishly, extended his legs in front of the desk and crossed his arms above his head. He smiled a devilish grin, enjoying his control over her. With one word he could manipulate her emotions, actions, and thoughts. Her arms were practically sore at being the marionette for everyone in her life.

"It's Amy!" She threw herself to her feet which felt like tree roots buried into the ground. She wasn't moving unless she wanted to. "Not dogfight, or hound dog, or any other abominable name you'd enjoy saying behind my back. A-MY! Amy Farrah Fowler." For added dramatic effect she stomped her foot into the ground for each part of her name. And it was powerful. When her foot crashed into the ground it was like drums rolled beneath her. On the final stomp she felt something crack beneath her foot. The more she laid her weight into the ground the more cracks she felt coming from her sole. She lifted her foot and saw the guts of a pen scattered on the ground. The ballpoint burst open leaving inky remnants beside it. While pieces of the body were stuck to her shoe and broken into fragments. One upward piece had the beginning of the phrase "Fowlers About" while the piece attached to her shoe read, "Science". She'd crushed the only physical memory she had of her father. That pen represented the love a man had for his daughter. And her preserving that showed how much she respected and cherished him now that respect lay broken on the ground.

"No!" Amy took in a large breath and began backing up with her hands in surrender. "No, no, no!" She yelled again, diving for the pieces like it was a bloody baby.

"Amy, what's wrong?"Sheldon said approaching the door, noticing the scene ahead. The rest of the class began gathering around watching her like she was a common spectacle. She offered them entertainment but no one offered her comfort. Amy felt a hand rest on her shoulder but pity was the last thing she wanted so she harshly shrugged it off.

"I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry!" She repeated, muffled into her hands..

"It's a pen. Calm down, jeez." The thick necked guy criticized her volatile outburst.

"You know her and her mother scrounge for clothes at garage sales," an airy voice swept through the commotion, "maybe they don't have money for school supplies. That could have been her only pen." A pair of girls snickered into each other's hair beside her.

"Stop laughing!" Sheldon brandished his voice throughout the room bringing the commotion to a startling end. Amy's quiet sniffles were the first thing to poke the silence."Can't you see something is wrong and all you do is stand there make rude jokes? Just leave her alone. What's wrong with you people." He waved his head from side to side making eye contact with everyone in the room letting them know he was serious. Before he could reach the snickering girls and the thick necked guy they averted their eyes and held their heads low. Cowards.

Sheldon kneeled beside Amy and place his arm around her shoulder while the other one held her hand. Amy mechanically gathered her belongings leaving the pen for last. Her shaky hand lingered over the remains not wanting to touch it. Sheldon's hand moved for hers and he picked up the remnants of the pen, lifted her up and carried her out of the room.

When they crossed the threshold of the school's opening they stopped. Sheldon let go of her shoulder and threw his hands in his pocket, rocking nervously on his heels. He cut his eyes to the side to sneak a glance at Amy. Before he could deduce her emotional state she turned and looked at him. He quickly looked away. He silently counted to 45, cleared his throat, and slowly turned his head to face her again. She was still looking at him. He looked away, again.

"I'm fine." Amy answered the question he was too afraid to ask. "I think I'm just going to go home."She clasped a gentle hand around his wrist and pulled it from his pocket. Turned it upward and prompted his fingers to open. As unfamiliar as it was she ran her fingers along his palm grabbing the handful of pen crumbles. His hand was paralyzed open and straight. Everything was so uncharacteristic that he became comatose as to what to do next."Sorry about that." Amy said, again beating him to the punch.

"A- about what?" He didn't know if she were apologizing for her outburst or their intimate hand moment. Either way her outburst was clearly overdue and the hand gesture was unfamiliar but not unwelcoming. "Actually, whatever you're apologizing for, don't. You haven't done anything wrong to my standards. And I deem most things wrong. But nothing you did was wrong." She wanted his give him a proper thanks. A big one that would say she was truly thankful for everything he's done for her these past weeks. But the emotional wreckage she endured left her feeling like a deflated balloon.

"I'm going to go home now" She said releasing a breath of rotten air.

"Okay."

"…do you mind coming with me?" He wouldn't come, she thought. He was an avid rule follower and school goer and breaking both was unimaginable. But today she didn't need to be alone. She needed his company, his conversation and care. She needed him. It was worth a shot.

"Sure." Amy started down the stairs first and Sheldon followed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you guys for being so patient with me! This is WAY harder than I expected. I seriously appreciate every writer on here because it's a huge time commitment. Anyway, this chapter is so sad for Amy (surprise, surprise) but I read once that dragging the protagonist through a mound of shit makes the reward better in the end. SHE WILL HAVE A HAPPIER ENDING I SWEAR!**

Their pace was slow and deliberate. Like they were savoring how each step started from the heel and rolled to the toe. Any other day their walk would be painstaking, but today it allowed for their thoughts to be arranged and sorted. They turned the corner revealing Amy's brick house and let the silence fall to the grass like dew.

"We're here." Sheldon pinched himself for saying. He hated when people stated blatant observation for the sake of salvaging a dying conversation. But often times with Amy he couldn't gather the words to say. So many words tumbled in his head but none fell to his lips.

"Hm." Was all Amy said as she stared at the house like it was brand new.

"I'll just wait on the porch, while you go inside."

"The porch?" She swung her eyes from the house to Sheldon.

"The lawn then?" Amy's face crumpled in confusion. "Fine, I'll stay on the sidewalk."

"You don't want to come in?"

"W-well, you said if your mother found out you had a boy in your house she would lock you in the closet. I don't know how true that is but it's better safe than sorry, right?"

"Right" She cursed herself for letting that slip. "Well, if you don't mind. I'd love for you to come in… I really need someone to talk to today."

"But what about your mother?"

"I'm willing to take that risk. Are you?"

"Ditching school and sneaking into a girl's house in the same day, this must be how George feels."

Houses usually never feel empty. The life of those living there give the house vibrancy even when they aren't there. However, Amy's house was empty. The air was stale and the furniture untouched. A ghost would even feel uncomfortable.

"My mother loves quiet and order." Amy said watching the uncomfortableness crawl up Sheldon's back. "A disorderly house is a disorderly life, she always says."

"I admire both, but this is…extreme."

"Let's go up to my room, it's more homey." She was right. Her room felt like a hug. The smell of warm vanilla swept across his face, while her bed and chairs were adorned with beautifully detailed quilts. His audible breath was enough to let Amy know he felt comfortable. She gestured to the room as he headed to the chair beside her bookshelf.

Amy followed suit but continued to the bed taking off her shoes before curling her legs beneath herself. Watching her spread her toes and roll her ankles was very intimate for Sheldon. She was getting a type of comfortable they had never been around each other. It was strange. Once she was settled she dropped the pieces of the broken pen on the bed and watched it, somehow willing it to repair itself.

"I bet you think I'm crazy." Amy said fingering the spring.

"Why would I think that?"

"I literally threw a tantrum in the middle of class...over a pen. I know everyone else thinks I'm crazy."

"Well they can just go kiss my grits!" Sheldon said wringing his neck and waving his finger like he was imitating someone trying imitate a sassy black woman. Amy laughed. But the longer she played with the broken pieces the more her emotions snowballed to throat. Before she could make a beeline to the bathroom she began choking out cries. She cupped her head in her hands and gave her emotions permission to explode.

Jesus! Sheldon thought as he slid off the chair and approached her like she was an anxious puppy. He stood over her saying 'there, there' but after three minutes his 'there, there's' were becoming apart of the background.

Comfort her! He said to himself, but his disdain of tears prevented him to do so. Although, watching her back twist in agonizing sobs wasn't any better. He opened his sweaty palm and watched it hover over her back wanting to smooth the tension. He hesitated again. Rubbing her back would be so intimate. What if he felt...her bra? What if in his nervousness his fingers shook and he accidentally unhooked it? Is this what being a teenage boy is like? Thinking inappropriate sexual thoughts at the wrong time.

"Sheldon." Amy cough, throwing him out of his erotic stupor. "Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here." He said. His fingers still hovering over her back. He tried to move them but they disobeyed his commands.

"I need you." Amy said in a mousy plea. Her words were the spell to cast him into action. He plopped his hand on her back, harder than intended, and glided his palm in a disjointed circle. As her breath eased his movements became more gentle and nurturing. His hand was drunk with her touch as he felt her melt into his body.

"He died today," Amy said focused on a spot on the floor, "My father. He died 9 years ago today...9 years...What's funny is that it feels like yesterday he was giving me a goodnight kiss and saying 'Don't let the bedbugs bite, if they do...spray!' But at the same time it feels like he was never hear. That I made him up."

"Do you have anything left of him- a hat, photo, ring- to keep him real?"

She thought for a bit. "He used to write me letters. He traveled a lot when I was younger and he would send me letters describing what he was studying, how much he missed me, and how much he loved me. When he got back he continued to write but he'd hide them around the house for me to find." She smiled as the memory played in her mind. But grief bled over the serenity of the moment and all she saw was gray. He felt her back tense again and he wrapped his free arm around her shoulder pulling her into his chest. "After he died, it broke my mom's heart to watch me cry over the letters so she hid them from me. I think they're in the attic but maybe they're better left hidden. I just miss him, you know?"

"I do."

"I miss having someone who treats me like I deserved to be loved." Sheldon wasn't one to say something 'broke his heart' because of how absurd the idea was. But hearing Amy's voice break at her tragic confession made his heart literally constrict. The urgency to erase her pain became overwhelming.

"Listen to me." Sheldon said turning her shoulders to face him. Her head had fallen to her chest and she look too exhausted to even breathe. "Listen to me, Amy." He said stronger demanding her attention. "You deserve to be loved, that's a given. Just because your father is gone doesn't mean his love isn't. It doesn't mean other people don't love you." His fingers were pressing into her so hard he was afraid he'd leave a mark. Something was bubbling inside of him and he was trying to keep it at bay. He took in a big gasp of air and shut his lips tight. Now the feeling a rush from his chest to his eyes.

"Sheldon? Are you alright?" Amy said wondering if he were going to vomit. Had the words he said to her tasted that vile that he couldn't stomach them. "Sheldon, say something!" She leaned her face closer to his looking into his jumpy eyes.

Bad idea. Bad idea!

Sheldon pulled her in and kissed her on her cheek, letting his lips savor her velvety skin. But as soon as he felt himself enjoying it he pulled back frightened at what Amy's response would be. She could kick him, and demand him to never enter their house again. She could yell at him and forbid him from ever talking to her. Or she could slap him hard and ensure they never crossed paths. All of which ended in him never seeing Amy and the thought of that set him on edge.

"I- I umm...tripped!" So much for being a genius. Now he would have to explain how a sitting man can trip.

"Thank you." Amy said staring back. Her face was inches from his like she was going to kiss him too.

"Ayyyeeemeeeee!" A blaring voice came from downstairs. The pair heard the front door open and shut and they quickly ran to separate corners of the rooms, looking incredibly suspicious.

"What should we do?" Sheldon mouthed to Amy who looked like she was going to jump out of her bedroom window.

The closet! He thought. He'd seen Missy do it a thousands times. She'd sneak a boy over while mother was at Sunday school. And when Mary returned early because sister Ann is 'a loud mouthed hussy who can't mind her business', Missy would stuff the guy in her closet like a winter coat. Perhaps he should hide in Amy's closet. But that would admit they were doing something wrong. He was just consoling a weeping woman, while holding her and kissing her...alone...in bed. Dangit!

He raised his foot to head toward the closet when he heard the lock of her knob click.

"Amy, what are you doing home so early?"

"Umm" Amy twitched so hard she might as well have tattooed on her face 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.' Her mother's eyes followed to where Amy was obviously avoiding and she yelled when she saw Sheldon.

"A boy!" Barbara grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and held her close like she was protecting her from an armed robber.

"Mother it's just Sheldon." She twisted from her grip, walking between the two.

"Still a boy."

"H-hello Ms. Flower." He said.

She glared.

"Nice to see you." He said again.

She glared again.

"Sheldon was just on his way out." Amy prompted, nodding her head toward the door. He didn't have to go home, but he had to get the hell up out of here. He scrambled for his bag and ran toward the door, ducking as he passed her mother.

"Thanks again." Amy whispered to him.

Sheldon was skipping two and three steps at a time seeing freedom just beyond the door. But he was too slow and allowed for Barbara to wrap her mind around the situation.

"What are you thanking him for, Amy?" The room turned to ice.

"What?" Was all Amy could cough up.

"I want to thank Sheldon for his generous act. I just need to know what it was he did." Her mother stood at the top of the steps paralyzing his back with her stare.

"Oh! He walked me home. It was very chivalrous of him and I wanted to thank him." Barbara nodded methodically. Dangerously methodically.

"So you two skipped school so he could walk you home?"

"I...um wasn't having a good day at school and I really needed to go home. So Sheldon walked me home and comforted me and now I feel much better." Amy assumed at this point the truth was the only thing that could save her from an entire day in the sin closet. Because she was definitely going to have a long reunion with the closet after this fiasco.

"Comforted you?" Barbara hollered. "You must think I was born yesterday? I knew it! I knew if I let you spend time with that boy he would turn you into a whore within seconds." She said 'boy' like she was saying the worst curse word. "I thought you learned your lesson after prom?"

"Learned what? That Sheldon is the only person who has shown me a bit of care in years."

"That you are different and you can't do everything everyone else does."

"Like what? Have a friend, go to a dance, laugh, enjoy myself? Is that what you are so afraid of? Is that what you are trying to protect me from, Mom?"

"I'm trying to protect you when all of that is snatched from under you like a rug. When you realize that he doesn't love you like you want him to. They are scientist Amy, and when things don't produce their desired results they abandon them. We're just experiments. I'm protecting you from that." Amy turned her head toward the steps to tell Sheldon she didn't believe he would do something like that. But she caught him standing by the door, halfway open.

"I should go." Was all he said as he exited the room. His eyes stayed locked on Amy's as long as he could.

"I told you." Her mother said low.

"You chased him away! Why are you so against me being happy? I'm starting to believe you find pleasure in watching me be miserable. It's like the people who show me an ounce of love, you snatch them away from me."

"Who are all of these people that I have snatched from you Amy? Please, enlighten me."

"Sheldon…" She almost couldn't think of anyone else. That thought alone weakened her. "...dad."

"If only you knew." Her mother scoffed and rolled her eyes "Let's just settle this argument on the fact that I know more than you. Take my advice, and forget about him. You'll thank me later."

"No! Here are the facts: Sheldon cares about me, and I care about him. He hasn't done anything close to inappropriate this entire time. Here's another fact. Dad actually loved me, and you didn't, or don't. I can't really tell anymore." Her mother's shoulders fell and her eyes froze. But Amy didn't feel any sympathy. Was she wrong? Her mother never showed so much as a interest in Amy if she wasn't punishing or scrutinizing her. If it wasn't for her father, Amy would have never known what it felt like to feel wanted. "Here's another fact-" Amy stopped when her mother turned and descended down the stairs. Her body was more stoic than usual, like a mannequin who learned how to walk. "I'm not finished." Amy yelled after her.

Her mother was going to listen to every word Amy chose to say, whether she wanted to or not. But she didn't stop walking. She walked through the entire house until she reached her bedroom. Amy hated going into her mother's bedroom. When she opened the door the room oozed blue and grey, and was perfumed in loneliness. Barbara kneeled on the floor, reaching for a box beneath the bed. In it was all types of items from her past. The tassel from her graduation cap, movie stubs, a wedding ring, and a stack of thin paper. The paper began to brown revealing its age. "Mother this isn't the time to hear about your cheap steals a storage room auction."

Barbara carefully handed her the handful of letters. "What are you doing?"

"Snatching the rug myself."

She recognized the sloppy handwriting. They were her dad's letters.

Dearest Amy,

The university adopted a baby monkey this week to observe its behavior. She's 1 month today and her name is Darla. She's wide eyes and always jumping with excitement. I told them to consider naming her Amy because you are the same. Your eyes beam with excitement and wonder, and your light spirit sends you around the room like a feather. Darla's doesn't understand what a contribution to science she is making but she is revolutionary beyond belief. And so are you.

Your mother tells me that the girls in your class have been picking on you after the science fair. But they don't understand the wonderful contribution to science you will someday make. They don't see how revolutionary are. Don't let what others cannot see keep you from seeing it as well.

All my love,

Dad

Tears begged to fall but they stopped at the edge of her lid. She fingered the stack and there they were, all of the letters he had written her. When he went to California and Boston. When he co wrote an article for an academic journal. When Amy has her first harp recital. All of those memories sitting in her hands. The more she shuffled the bunch the more the letters became unfamiliar. Some of them were addressed to his parents, his friends, and her mother.

Something was different about her letters. Amy's letters had light writing, The cursive swooped and curved like a feather on the page. But the letters addressed to her mother were darker, the ink pressed deep into the paper. Jagged and rough.

Dearest Barbara,

You know I want to be home but my work is calling. This could be the experiment, Barb. The experiment that finally takes me over that hump. This could be better for both of us. I can't stop now.

Your love!

To Barbara,

You know what kind of life I wanted when you married me. If you're being taken care of why do I have to be home all of the time?

Barbara,

How dare you? I finally get a taste of success and you are adamant on taking it all of that away from me. Why can't you stand to see me happy? And now you want to throw in a baby into the mix. If you haven't noticed our marriage isn't anything worth writing home about. I hope you don't think this baby will salvage anything because it won't. I am going to be a groundbreaking scientist, I know that, and nothing will stop me. Not even you. Not even that baby. So if I need to sign the papers over for that mistake then fine. You can mail them to me.

"You're lying." Amy threw the papers letting them fall like snow to the ground.

"You're all about tangible facts, Amy. How can I lie about what you saw yourself?"

"He wouldn't say this. You wrote this yourself." Her emotions carried her in a stampede around the room. She stopped when a crippling scream was pressed against her chest. Amy threw a shaky hand over her mouth stopping her from succumbing to it. She wasn't going to cry over something that wasn't true.

"Amy, open your eyes! We are just alike. All I wanted when I was your age was love. I wanted friends and a boyfriend so badly that I sacrificed my happiness for it. I fell in love with a man who would always put me second. Watched him disown his child. Watched him come crawling back once his career failed. Just to give you all of the love I desperately wanted. I don't want you to end up disappointed and hurt like me...But you can't be disappointed if you don't have any expectations." The room fell silent, bursting with unspoken confessions and uncovered pain.

What surprised Amy through all of this was that her mother never cried once. Not even like she had the urge to cry or the ability. She only looked empty. As hollow as a vase. Was this how broken her mother was? Was that why his death gutted her? Because he died without ever loving her. And she watched her daughter go through the same thing.

Amy wanted to walk to her mother but she didn't know if she wanted to hug her or slap her. Instead she stood by the door until her legs allowed her to leave.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

 **Hey y'all! I come begging for forgiveness on my hands and knees! I am SO sorry I haven't posted in a while. It's been a hell of a month and I never wrote anything that I liked enough to post. I'm not even sure I'm in love with this chapter, but…here it is. You're reviews are literally what keeps me going. I'm thankful for the people who consistently review and for so many amazing comments. You guys are literally the best and I promise I will try to be more consistent. Continue!**

Sheldon clogged into his room, massaging the lump of tension that was assaulting his neck. He placed a bowl of popcorn on the foot of the bed and sat beside it reaching for a game console. The pixelated screen and the bouncy tune of Super Mario Bros. expelled a rush of nostalgia and or a moment he forgot about his looming problem.

Run, run, run, jump! His right thumb grazed over the button to jump but he never pressed it. His thoughts shifted to the way Amy's skin felt when he grazed her cheek.

Hits barrier. Start over.

Run, run, run, jump, cliff! His left thumb rotated the joystick in the same circular motion he rubbed Amy's back hours before.

Falls off cliff. Start over.

Sheldon had never failed to finish level 1 of Super Mario Bros. Ever since he received the game he could advance to level 5 with no hesitation. He threw his head back, feeling the sensation of tension resurfacing, the console teetered in his palms the same way he wanted Amy's hands to rest in his.

Mocking him, the losing tune of the game played like an annoying earworm.

 _Like Sisyphus, I am doomed to hell. I blame Amy!_

His organized mind was quickly becoming cluttered with hormonal baggage. And Amy had only been here for 4 weeks. Women are truly sirens and he, like a fool, fell prey to her trap.

He felt stupid, confused, and cold, unlike the warmth he felt hugged against Amy's back. That was before he had to snatch himself away when her mother interrupted.

 _Ugh!_ Her mother. He thought his mother was…'special' but Amy's mother was so...'special' she belonged in an exhibit at the county rodeo.

'Come one, come all to see the unrelenting, nagging, accusing mother, Barbara Fowler. Just picture her; beady eyes, thin lips, sunken cheeks, and a soul so cold it makes ice look hot. THE HORROR! Don't get too close or she will lock you in...THE SIN CLOSET'

Sheldon grinned at his personal joke, but a knot in his chest prevented him from enjoying it. It was 7:15pm and Amy hadn't called at 7:00pm like she usually does. Perhaps she _was_ locked in the sin closet. She did warn him that if her mother caught a boy in her room she would be locked in there forever. This was all his fault. Or maybe she just hated him for walking out on her after her mother accused him of not caring. Also his fault. He physically shook the idea from his head and stuck his hand into the bowl of popcorn, returning to the game.

"Sheldon?" A weak voice came from the window. He froze and tried to remain as silent as possible but the popcorn in his mouth sounded like fireworks as he chewed. "Sheldon?" The whisper blew past again. This time accompanied with a loud thud of a rock. He jumped and the bowl flew from his lap hurling kernels and popcorn in every direction. The console was somehow tossed toward the TV screen while Sheldon threw himself to the far side of his bed.

 _Get yourself together, Cooper._

It's probably Missy needing to sneak back in after a night of God knows what; probably drunk, probably loud, definitely with a guy.

"Not this time, Missy!" He threw a handful of popcorn at the window.

No response.

Or maybe it isn't Missy at all and it _is_ a criminal trying to kidnap him, or kill him, or worse...steal his Nintendo.

"Go away!" Sheldon grabbed the lightsaber he had resting next to his bed as a weapon.

"Sheldon, it's me!" The voice came muffled from the window.

"Me who?"

"Amy."

He hurdled over the bed and ran to the window noticing Amy standing just beyond the shrubs. She looked different; feeble and small. The oversized men's jacket cocooned her while the hood shadowed her entire face.

"Amy?" He wiped the dew from the window. She finally looked up and her face was burning red, the green of her eyes looked dull and tired. God, did he want to run his hand down her cheek and wipe the pain away from her face. But the window lock prevented him from doing so, he fumbled and pulled but it was impenetrable. The longer he rattled with the lock the more anxious he got, he pointed toward the front and bolted through the house to meet her before anyone saw. He snatched open the front door and the moment the cool wind hit him, his energy went with it.

Amy was sitting close to the street, her head resting in the grass while her limbs were stretched out. Chills went down his back and his legs felt like sinking cement and feathers at the same time. Why was he nervous? This was Amy, in the past month he had talked to her more than he had talked to himself, and he loved talking to himself. She must have heard him shuffling through the grass when she sat up holding her knees into her chest.

"We have to stop meeting like this." Sheldon said, hovering over her back. The moment the last word crossed his lips he regretted saying it. He'd heard Clark Kent say it to Lois Lane and she seemed smitten by it and laughed, he expected to have the same reaction with Amy. But watching her unmoving frame and hearing the ear shattering silence he knew he didn't have the same results. "I- uh, I mean because this is the same place we were when I found you after pr-" _Was prom night really an ideal event to bring up during this situation?_ "Well, I guess it's not the same exact place, you were a little closer to the street and I was standing further over there. Plus you had on this huge and noisy blue dress, I actually thought it was a trash bag from all the noise it was making in the wind but…" Amy slowly turned toward him, her face screamed 'what the hell!" _No, prom night was not an ideal event to bring up during this situation._ "I'm sorry that I uh walked out on you, well not you, I was just- I don't function well during family disputes. My go to reaction is to leave. When I was 8 my dad-"

"Sheldon?" Amy said.

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

"Happily." Sheldon said.

The crickets chirped. The wind howled. Silence.

"Sheldon?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for comforting me."

"No problem."

The trees creaked. The moon glowed. Silence.

"Sheldon?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for kissing me."

"You're welcome."

Sheldon sat. Amy stirred. Silence.

"Sheldon?"

"Yes?"

"Do you love me?"

His face completely distorted. She was joking! She had to have been joking, he needed her to be joking. But the look in her searching eyes said otherwise. She was screaming for him to say he loved her. He saw her hold her breath awaiting his answer, but he couldn't give one.

"I-you...we were just- I mean I-I…" He scrambled to his feet, watching her head follow him as he ran into the house. He wasn't sure what happened next. Did she yell after him? Or at him? Did she leave? Or stay out there all night?

"No, no, no" Sheldon roared as he stomped in circles around the kitchen.

"Shelly?" What's wrong sweetie?" His mother rushed in hearing the commotion.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. We got too close. I knew we shouldn't have started that agreement in the first place. Now look, it's ruined."

"What's ruined baby?" The last thing he needed was another woman trying to talk about feelings. He headed toward his room, or anywhere else but his mother followed steps behind.

"Our friendship!"

"What do you mean, you two spend every minute together these days. So much so I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks." She ran her hand through his hair the way mothers love to play in their children's hair "When did your hair get this long anyway?" He snatched himself from her touch and crossed his arms.

"She asked me if I loved her." He growled.

"I see. And what did you say back?"

"What do you mean _what did I say back?_ Nothing! I ran. How could she even ask me something like that? How could she think that? We were...we were just supposed to be friends, nothing more."

"You are right, Sheldon. That was a tough question to answer." He relaxed when she agreed with him. "But baby, you have to admit that you really have come to like her."

"Of course, I have to like her. I'm contractually obligated to like her."

"So calling her every night and walking her home and standing up for her in class is all in your little contract?" _Curse Missy and her big mouth!_ "You care about her, Sheldon. It's okay. It's okay to tell her, I'm guessing she feels the same about you."

"I don't like her."

"Okay." She didn't believe him.

"I don't!"

"Okay." He didn't believe himself. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna tell her" Her puffed his chest out, "that she is just being a ridiculous, homormal, hippie-dippie woman that should not clutter my perfectly organized mind with meaningless emotions such as love."

"Okay. So what are you _actually_ gonna do?"

"I'm going to lock myself in my room until the zombie apocalypse comes and kills us all!"

"So what do you think I'm going to tell you to do?"

His shoulders fell, "Talk to her?"

"Take your coat!"

"Hi" Sheldon walked to the same spot he was a few minutes ago. He was actually surprised that Amy had stayed. He was actually hoping she had left.

"Hello"

"May I sit?"

"Sure."

He sat. He noticed how wet the grass felt under his pants, how loud the bugs roared in the background, how rosy her cheeks were, how her hair curtained around her face, how her eyes were like the ocean; a tropical ocean, the ones with colorful fish and clear water.

"Who's jacket are you wearing?"

"My Dads."

He noticed how cheap the jacket was, probably purchased at Walmart or a truck stop. He noticed how there were small holes in the lining of the jacket and the frayed edges around the collar and the cuffs."

"It's nice"

She played with a loose string. "Thanks." She shivered and placed her land in her lap. Her fingertips were red but her palms were stark white.

"Are you cold?"

"A little." Amy said. "You okay?"

"Yes"

"Did what I said upset you?"

"Amy."

"Yes."

"I don't function well with emotion. I am most comfortable with facts and logic."

"Okay." She was searching for what to say next, "Let's conduct an experiment."

He nodded

"A series of questions that can be gathered to make an educated guess."

"Of course."

"What does love feel like?"

A knot caught in his throat.

"I-i thought we said no emotion."

"Okay. When I call you, what do you feel?"

"I feel excited to engage in an academic discussion with a pier."

"When we speak, what do you feel?"

"I feel intellectually stimulated."

"When I look in your eyes, what do you feel?"

"I feel like I can't breathe, my arms begin to sweat, and my mouth dries."

"When I grab your hand," She placed her hand on top of his "what do you feel?"

"I feel like I'm being electrocuted." She pulled her hand away. "Like every cell in my body can feel your touch."

"When I am close to you," She edged closer, the bottom of her jacket tickled his lap. "what do you feel?"

"Like we're magnets."

"When I kiss you," She leaned in. Her lips were inches from his. He could feel her shaky breath on his mouth. She pressed her lips to his. He leaned in against her and placed his hands on top of hers. "I'll ask again, what does love feel like?"

"It feels like this."

Sheldon licked his lips, focused his attention to her mouth and leaned in again.

"I don't think my Dad knew what love felt like." He stopped at Amy's sudden comment. "I know my mom doesn't know what love feels like. And I was afraid I wouldn't know what love felt like either."

"And now?"

"And now, I'm not afraid anymore."

They kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

Day 40 of 42

Their social experiment had run its course, a course rockier than Sheldon and Amy imagined but the waters were much calmer now. They no longer struggled to stay afloat but drifted gently to the end of their journey. Occasionally they hit a couple rough spots, hidden under the disguise of Mona Wright. The other thick necked jocks had forgotten about the prom fiasco and her meltdown in class but Mona was relentless in her torment. Almost always Amy would hear their sickening nickname, Dogfight, whispered when she entered the room. Almost always it was Mona's sickening face snickering her direction. She'd intentionally bump her in the halls or glare at Amy until she was so uncomfortable she was forced to leave. Surprisingly, her episodes with Mona didn't stir her that much. She was used to battling petty hatred from petty girls, what unsettled her most was the indifference from Christian. After prom he became a ghost. He never apologized, not that she expected him to, or teased her or spoke to her to even look at her. Had he even thought of her as a person when he was attempting to ruin her life?

She never let those thoughts eat at her mind too long before she felt uncomfortable in her own skin or with her own thoughts. But she always had a retreat when she felt like this; Sheldon. They had a spot now, the third lunch table from the back. So when she felt smacked around by Mona or outcasted by Christian she always had a base to run to.

"There you go," Sheldon said ripping the last strip of crust from his bread and handing it to Amy. He calculatedly wiped the fallen crumbs from the lunch table and watched Amy nibble on the strips of dry bread.

"You know," Amy started, sopping the discarded crust in her leftover peanut butter "You should actually start eating these, they're pretty good."

"I didn't realize you were a comedian."

"What are you talking about" She held a And over her mouth trying not to expose her mouthful of food while she giggled at Sheldon insinuation.

"That joke you just made about me eating the crust of bread, it was hilarious. You, little lady, should get a tiny yellow car because you are a clown!"

"I'm serious Sheldon you're just wasting food." It was no surprise he was a thin at he was, his criteria on how his food was prepared, plated, or packaged made him picker than a panda. No bread crusts, no mixed nuts, he could eat the nuts if they were individually packaged but once they are mingling with other nuts it becomes a "club of nuts" and that sounds disgusting. No honey buns if they had too much honey and not enough bun. And under no circumstance would he ever eat, look at, or touch anything close to relish. The sound it made falling from the bottle, the slimy texture, the name! The list goes on.

"That's why you're here you help me where I can't and I do the same for you."

"Such as?"

"This past Monday, when you couldn't reach the beaker on the top shelf in the physics lab, I graciously helped you where you couldn't."

Amy scoffed at what Sheldon considered a chivalrous act. "You gave me a lecture on how natural selection would have killed me for being so short had we been living in prehistoric times. And how your genetic makeup of being tall would breed superior offspring out of nature's deadly path."

"Exactly! Pick up where you can't. You're welcome." Amy picked up a strip of crust and tossed it into her mouth.

"How's the food, dogfight?" That word. That unsettling, sickening name snaked its way up her spine holding her in place. She didn't want to turn around, she couldn't turn around. The laugh behind her gave away the culprit of the remark; Mona Wright.

"Excuse me" Sheldon said, his demeanor became focused and pointed like a dog on alert. He set his sandwich down and began to stand up.

"Sheldon, just ignore them." Amy placed a hand on his trying to bear him down.

"No! I believe you owe her an apology." He was well in Mona's face, towering over her petite body. Christian stood behind her flexing his muscles to scare Sheldon away but he didn't budge."Well, go on."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Mona played coy.

"Apology: a regretful acknowledgement of an offense or failure. Here's an example: The Galveston City School System owes you an apology for failure teach you simple vocabulary."

"Whatever." She started to walk off but Sheldon stepped in her path. His eyes widened at her like he was trying to set her on fire with his gaze. His focus was so piercing it looked like his nose was going to bleed.

"What are you doing?" Mona said pulling into herself, she actually look frightened.

"I am using Kohlinar to put an evil hex on you. One that unties your shoes when you're not noticing and loses the pages in the books you're reading. You'll rue the day you ever messed with Amy Farrah Fowler when you're in your last chapter of a good book and you no longer remember where you left off. Shame! Shame!" Amy tucked her head in her sweater a little embarrassed at the 'help' Sheldon was giving.

"And you" he turned to Christian, "you're the worst offender of them all. I hope you know what kind of person you pulled that awful prank on. The possible valedictorian of our class, a kind, generous, young lady who eats the crust from my bread and knows how to probably crack the spine of a book. You deserve a hex worse than hers, I hope the world sees you as the coward you are. Be gone"

Who was this mad man before her? He looked like Sheldon but he was anything but. His voice was low when he spoke not shrill like it often was, he even puffed out his chest to take up as much space as Christian did. He really was a lordly gentleman ready to sweep her off of her feet.

The pair left, probably more confused than frightened but that didn't matter.

"Thank you."Amy said, her eyes followed him until he was seated.

"They deserves it."

"Yes, but thank you anyway." The conversation fell, only the clamor of the lunch room sat between them. "I'm going to miss this." She said softly, so soft it was almost eaten by the background noise.

Sheldon looked confused at her admission.

"Lunch?"

"This." She shrugged at everything. "Lunch, or talks, you standing up for me…"

You.

It stood on the edge of her lips wanting to spill out but she bit it back.

"Why?" Sheldon said.

"The experiment ends in two days, I'll just...miss it. That's all."

"I must mention that standing up for you is not a clause written in the contract. I just do it because...I...I...care about you." The food in her mouth almost fell out. She tried to close her wide mouth but her jaw had fallen to the floor at his confession. "B-because you eat the crust from my bread and if I didn't have you than who would I get to do it? The lunch lady?"

"I care about you too Sheldon. Because of the bread crust, obviously"

"Obviously."

"It's really been a fun six weeks, I'm sad to see it end so soon."

"We do still have a weekend activity that we never used, if you're willing we can plan something Saturday night. At the university perhaps?" Sheldon suggested, fidgeting more than usual.

"Oh, I don't know, I'd have to ask my mom."

"So?"

"I haven't actually spoken to her since our last fight. We haven't been in the same room or even looked at each other since. I don't think she'd let me go, I don't think she'd answer me."

"Oh"

"Yea"

"Well, I'll ask her."

"You want to talk to my mother?"

"Well I don't want to, but I will. I think our final outing will be a great button to a successful experiment. And if there's one thing I will fight tooth and nail for is closure. So, I'll talk to her."

He said nonchalantly like talking to her mother was like talking to Santa Claus.

"Thank you, Sheldon. You said the experiment was successful, you really believe that?"

"Of course, I believe it. We proved to be an excellent pair, I'm glad we participated in it."

"You know what happens to successful experiments? The results must be replicated to be sure, are you interested in conducting a second trial?"

"Hm, that is accurate. How about this, since we know we can manage a friendship agreement how about we take it to the next level?" His eyes gave away his suggestive statement.

"A relationship agreement?" Amy nearly lost her mind. He was gonna be her boyfriend! Sheldon Cooper was going to be her boyfriend!

"A best friends agreement silly!" She put her hand on top of his and looked him in his eyes.

"I'd love that."


	15. Chapter 15

There was a park in her neighborhood. Like an actual park with slides and monkey bars and kids and laughter. In the 17 years they have lived in this neighborhood Amy never knew that fun was nearby. She was a bit dismayed that her parents never brought her when she was a child. What kind of parents don't take their only child to a neighborhood park? And the older she grew the more she became chained to her home and childhood explorations became obsolete. But since the fight with her mother she never wanted to remain in the house longer than necessary. So she frequented the library more often and even became friends with the librarian. She found a community theatre and saw a few low budget productions of Shakespeare plays. And today, after school, she idly roamed the streets until she happened upon this park.

Under no circumstance did Amy want to become those people who sit on park benches and mope about their childhood. But seeing that she was sat on this bench, at the park, drifting in her thoughts she realized she'd become the thing she hated. Amy watched as the parents lifted their children in the air and guided them down the slide. She watched parents congratulate their kids on meaningless accomplishments like walking across a small beam, or parents comforting their kids when they fell. She hated to admit it but she was jealous. Like palms radiating jealous of 4 year olds because they had what she so desperately wanted; parental love. Amy shivered; either at her depressing thought or the drastic temperature drop. The sun was beginning to set and though her mother didn't pay her much attention lately she was still alert and had no qualms in putting out a missing persons. She was crazy like that.

Amy crossed the opening to the house and it seemed the same as it always did; empty. She saw a soft amber light coming from the study and softly padded past trying not to alert her mother. She was halfway past when she heard a loud thud from the room. She turned to see the study cluttered in boxes, papers and photos and in the core of it all was her mother in lounge clothes with her socks off and her hair undone.

"Mother?" Amy was certain something terrible had happened. She'd expected to see the second coming of the Lord before she ever saw her mother sitting amidst clutter and unkempt.

"Hm." Barbara uttered, barely looking up from the small photo in her hand.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm great!" She said laughing. _Oh my god._ It had actually happened her mother had actually gone insane! Amy was only 17, she would have at least 35 more years having to care for her mean, senile mother. "Come here." She said pushing a pile aside creating space for her on the floor. She look up with tired and sunken eyes, "please."

That was the first time her mother said please. Not counting the times she'd said it sarcastically or patronizing, this was a genuine plea. Amy froze, taking in how the word sounded falling from her mother's mouth. How sincere she sounded, how weak she sounded.

She followed suit and took her shoes off, squeezing between her mother and the bookshelf. The photos surrounding them were old, the edges torn and the color faded. They were all of her mother, young and happy. She started to ask about them when her mother said louder than expected.

"Sheldon called."

"He did?"

Amy thought he was telling her another empty promise like when he promised he'd read _A Lover's Affair_ but she knew he only read the first and last chapter and guessed the rest.

"He did. He wants to take you out tomorrow night...On a date."

"Okay mother, before you say anything I just want you to know it's just to the university. I don't know exactly what he has planned but Mrs. Gephart works at the university and you know and trust her. Nothing will happen." Without thinking Amy began to beg permission.

"I never said anything otherwise."

"I just- you a...I-I"

"I know. And I'm sorry." She took in a large breath like it was her last. "You're used to me saying no, and I'm sorry. For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. You can go, have fun. Just-" she fell back into her stern tone, "-just don't come home...after 11." She ended softly.

Amy scooted closer and almost rested her head on her mother's shoulder when she noticed the photo she had been holding.

"Is that us?" It was Amy as a baby, she assumed. She wasn't sure because they didn't have many pictures of herself around the house. If it weren't for her mirror Amy wouldn't have know what she looked like. She was certain that was her dad, his thick moustache and glasses gave him away. And her mother wore the same clothes since 1975 so the pink sweater in the picture was the same pink sweater she wore every Sunday.

"Hm-hmm."

"Why have I never seen this before?" The photo was of Amy, probably 2 years old, in a brightly colored dress and a bow in her hair. The only clothes Amy remembered owning were muted clunky clothes, nothing this childlike. Her father had her cradled in his arms while her mother leaned in kissing her cheek. It was hauntingly beautiful. It felt like she was looking at ghosts. These people couldn't have existed. Her father felt differently about having a daughter when she was younger and her mother had never shown her this much affection. These people were carefree and in love. This couldn't be them.

"It-I" her mother choked on her words and tears replaced them. "This wasn't us. This was a singular moment where we were happy together. But it wasn't us. We were arguments and silence and I felt putting this up was a lie. It was a painful reminder after every argument that we could never be those people in the photo."

"But we can, or we could be. I want to be."

"I don't know how. I don't know how to be happy, or to love anymore. I'm much more broken than I thought and I'm hurting you in the process, Amy. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Barbara collapsed over the box in front of her, her back lifting in sobs. She was right, they didn't know how to be a loving family. So much so Amy didn't know how to comfort her mother. She sat in surprise watching her mother unravel. Amy slowly wrapped her arms around her mother's chest, rested her head and rubbed circles on her back.

The room fell silent, but full of unanswered questions, of unspoken emotions, of hurt, anger, betrayal, and love.

"I need help, Amy." Barbara said. "I've, uh, made plans to see a therapist next week. Just a trial run to see how it goes."

"Oh, okay. That sounds good."

"Would you like to come with me?"

"Really, you want me there?"

"I owe it to you...please."

Amy nestled her head into her mother's neck and that was all of the answer she needed.

That evening, Amy and her mother ate dinner together. Not two bodies that happened to be in the same room. But they spoke to each other, it was incredibly awkward because they had never conversed over dinner but it was a start.

"Oh, Sheldon left this message for you." She grabbed her message pad from the phone. "He said the dress code is evening attire and to meet him at the university in the architecture building at 8 tomorrow night."

"Oh, thank you for letting me know." Amy's grin was ripping her cheeks apart and no amount of strength could hide it.

"You're smitten."

"I am not!" She held her head in her plate so her mom would miss the blush burning her cheeks.

"Can you say his name without smiling?"

"Sheldon." She held her lips as thin as possible but the grin busted through.

"Smitten."

"I-I don't have anything to wear. Well, except my prom dress but that has too many bad memories."

"Well why don't you give it some new memories. It's a beautiful dress, don't let what happened ruin it for you."Barbara fingered her wedding ring, lost in thought. "My first date with your dad was also at the university. He had taken me to the observatory to look at a comet. He made dinner, brought wine and had everything set out to see the comet at a specific time." She reaches out to the empty third chair as if she were grabbing her father's hand. "But he was too busy trying to open the bottles for a toast that we missed the entire thing! It wasn't coming back for another 75 years and he promised we would see it the next time it came around." Her laughter fell to the floor like dust.

Amy shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the story. Before, memories of her father brought her immense joy but now she was too confused to know what was real.

"I don't want you to hate him." Her mother started noticing the shift in Amy's mood. "He did love you, with everything he had. He loved you. I shouldn't have thrown his past in your face."

They paused, looked at the empty third seat and let their emotions settle.

"So, shall we pick you out something to wear for your date!"


	16. Chapter 16

Maybe she could read a book? Or fiddle around on her harp? Or watch the grass grow? Or the paint dry? Anything to distract her from waiting for Sheldon. She stood on her knees over the back of the couch as headlights swelled in brightness against the mirror, all passing her house. As neighborhood clatter of people knocking on doors, greetings, and farewells became taunts; none of them coming from her porch. It was 35 agonizing minutes past the time Sheldon said he would pick her up.

Sheldon wasn't late. He was early, earlier, or unreasonably early but he wasn't late. The tickle in her mind began to think he wasn't coming. Perhaps he only asked her out because he felt bad for her? She was his friend and he cared about her but was he interested in her romantically? Or was he being nice to the girl who never knew love?

Her chest sunk and she started to collapse into the cushion when the sound of a sputtering engine roared through the streets. She turned to see a raggedy red pickup truck speeding into their driveway. The bed was almost detached from the tires and a big cloud of black smoke followed. From the passenger window, Sheldon, dressed in a black suit leaned out, his face red with terror.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He sang frantically. Like a deer getting used to his legs he wobbled and stumbled to the door with a limp bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"It's okay." He heard none of her reassurance and continued to mutter "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" until his words became unintelligible.

"Sheldon!" Amy yelled, throwing him out of his apologetic stupor. "It is okay. You're here now."

"I must say one thing." He slowly gained control of his gagged breath. "Seeing that we must enter a car driven by my lunatic brother, these might be my last. But, Newton was correct a body in motion stays in motion while a body at rest becomes an overweight elephant."

"Interesting last words...but okay."

"That maniac" he said pointing to his brother who was spitting out the window. "Spent all day in the same spot on the couch, knowing I had plans this evening. When it was time for us to leave to arrive early, he didn't move. When I threatened to show Mom his box of dirty videos, he didn't move. When I tried to lift him up, he certainly didn't move and I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my back."

"You're here. It's perfect. Let's go." Amy reached for his shaky hands, taking hold of the bouquet.

The anxious couple climbed in the back of the truck. Their seatbelts where as tight as they could go, they held onto the structure for added support. Amy almost offered bringing pillows and helmets but she decided against it and as of now regretted that decision immensely.

George Cooper didn't pay much attention to anything besides his reflection and any woman he passed. He disregarded the speed bumps, pedestrians, and certainly stop signs.

"Shit. Cops!" He hollered as the truck came to a violent halt. Amy and Sheldon were suspended in the air as inertia took them forward until they smashed into the seat as gravity took them back. Instinctively, Sheldon reached for Amy hoping to steady her movements. When the car settled as did Amy into his arms. Neither moved away. Neither said a word. Neither took a breath.

"Alright losers, we're here." They still refused to move. Partly collecting themselves from the near death car ride but mostly because the touch of being in each other's embrace was addicting. "C'mon! Get! I've got a date in an hour and I gotta clean the car with some of those car fresheners."

"Fornicating with a woman in the back of her truck isn't a date, Georgie. It's probably illegal in most states."

"What was that?"

"Be safe!" Without another word Sheldon grabbed Amy and rushed her into the building.

"Wow this is so ni- AH!" Amy started before a strip of fabric was wrapped around her eyes.

"Don't panic, don't panic." Sheldon held on to her gently caressing her arm. "I'm here, I have a surprise and I need you to be blindfolded." She nodded in agreement and allowed herself to be guided.

They twisted through stairs and elevators and hallways until the suspense became too much for Amy.

"Sheldon, I must know! Where are we going?"

"Be patient, we're almost there."

"I'm serious, I can barely see _with_ my glasses, how do you expect me to navigate blindfolded. Will you at least tell me where we are going? You could be leading me to my death."

"Amy?"

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

"Happily."

She continued until she heard the rusty hinge of a door open. Sheldon slowly untied the fabric from her eyes and let it sink to the floor.

"Surprise" he said nervous for her reaction.

They were in the observatory desk of the School of Architecture. The dome top was abstract in its construction. Large steel beams held the structure together while glass walled them in. But the craftsmanship of the building wasn't what sent her heart into dance. Hanging from the beam where silver and blue streamers. Balloons blanketed the floor, the reflections of the disco ball skated on the windows. There were tables of food and drink, a small card table with two crowns resting and music hummed in the background.

"It's-" Amy choked.

"Your prom. The prom you deserved rather."

She made no movement. Not even a slight twist in her eye. He felt as if he'd made a horrible mistake.

"There's lemonade and cookies, if you're hungry." She didn't move. "I have crowns so we can elect ourselves King and Queen." Nothing. "If not, we could dance. I have a cassette of the greatest hits of 1989 so we could dance all night if you want. Or dance until I have to flip the tape." She blinked! He wasn't sure it was her body forcing her or free will but it was movement and better than nothing. "Amy? You hate it! Don't worry. I can remove this is a few minutes and we can just talk, or we can go to the lab and do some experiments. Amy?"

"Ahhhh!" She jumped and threw herself through the air in jubilation. " I love-and...you….and I—you did. Thank you!"

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She wanted to cry for whatever reason happy people cry but she didn't want to waste another second. She approached him, grabbed his hand and placed it on her shoulder. He followed suit they stood in each other's arm.

"Music?" Sheldon started to let go but Amy pulled his arm back to her. She placed her head on his chest, she'd only know him for about 6 weeks and she was already drunk from the lullaby of his heart and the fabric of his skin, the wonder of his mind. He never got the escape to turn on any music. No music played but the score of their friendship, and their love.


End file.
